


Rule of Thumb

by aqua_vitae



Series: Rule of Thumb [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha! Taeyong, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega! Yuta, Slow Build, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-05-02 15:18:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 90,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14547582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqua_vitae/pseuds/aqua_vitae
Summary: Taeyong and Yuta plunge into the life of being mates without even knowing each other. Honestly, Yuta knows he would find Taeyong more appealing if he hadn’t accidentally claimed him. But the rule of thumb is that compromise is the language of the devil.





	1. Chapter 1

  Taeyong wakes up to a terrible headache. He looks down and sees a head of hair resting on his chest and comes to the terrible conclusion that he had drunk too much last night. He doesn’t remember much, except driving with Jaehyun to Ten’s place for their party.

  He scoots off the bed, he’s had enough one night stands to know that he is supposed to leave. Taeyong shakes his throbbing head and proceeds to pick out his clothes on the floor. He jumps when the omega stirs, pants stuck halfway to his knees. Something is wrong.

   The omega smells too sweet like he is close to his heat. But he vaguely remembers he had done something he shouldn’t have. Taeyong pulls down the covers, exposing the omega’s milky collar. However he tries to ignore it, it is there, on the back of his neck, an angry red mark standing out clear against the skin. _Okay, fuck_ , he thinks, scrambling back off the bed once again. He doesn’t know which one makes him feel better: that he had a night with someone else’s mate or that he claimed an omega when he wasn’t in the right state of mind. Either way, the sirens were blaring in his head and he should run, quickly.

   Scouring the room for his shirt, he stops short when the omega moves restlessly in his sleep. He climbs back onto the bed for the second time this morning and touches his forehead. He realizes two things when a state of panic takes over him. First is the omega must be having a bad dream. The second is that he must have marked him, because he could feel his heart beat faster in alarm as omega’s fright washes over him.

   To come and think of it, he _does_ , in fact, recall knotting him and claiming him. _Fuckity fuck fuck_ , he tells himself, and he was never one to swear, even when Ten and Johnny showed up at his house without prior notice. But the worry is cast to the back of his mind when the omega pulls the blanket close to himself, clearly agitated. Taeyong tries to stop himself but his instincts take over, and combs his hand through the omega’s hair. He throws the sheets back to cover his shoulders from where he had pulled them down, afraid that he might catch a cold with the air conditioner cranked so low. Taeyong should be picking out his belongings among the pile on the floor and rushing out of the apartment, but he couldn’t leave him now. He can’t just run away now, knowing that he’s claimed a mate.

    _Is he going to be angry at me?_ He toys with the strands of brown hair that kept falling back into his mate’s eyes. _My mate_ , he hits himself literally, _What did I do?_ _What if he hates me? How am I going to explain this to him?_ Taeyong was always the one friend other people dubbed as sensible, and Taeyong had never thought he would make this kind of decision drunk. Well now that he is sober, he thinks that way. Apparently, he hadn’t been considering the wellbeing of his own future self.

   _Is there any other person he’s sharing the house with?_ He hopes there isn’t, because the last thing he wants is anyone to barge in and see the state he is in right now. Taeyong cannot process the situation properly, and he doesn’t know what he should do next. He weighs the pros and cons of waking the other up and just waiting until he wakes up by himself, and realizes that in both cases he would be confronted with a flurry of questions and awkward stares and he wishes he had just left when he didn’t feel responsible yet.

-

  “Lee Taeyong,” he says, holding his hand out grimly, when the omega stirs. “Nice to meet you.”

  The omega sits up slowly, he sniffs and his brows are scrunched up. He takes his hand with a confused expression and shakes it like he doesn’t even know what he’s doing. “Yuta,” he says, his eyelids closing.

   The next second he falls back on his bed and continues to sleep. Taeyong is speechless, his hand is still held in the omega’s and _What is he supposed to do?_

   Desperate, Taeyong puts both of his hands on his shoulders and shakes him. “Wake up there’s a fire!”

   “Just leave me alone to die,” Yuta slurs, “Get out.”

   “Please wake up,” Taeyong almost cries, “I promise you can sleep after this.” He won’t be able to sleep well after he knows, he tells himself.

   The omega seems to be quite pleased with the second part of his sentence and shows him some mercy. He holds up his hands and Taeyong pulls him up by them.

    _He’s lovely_ , Taeyong thinks, taking in his messy bed hair and the sound he makes like a little growl when Taeyong attempts to make him sit up by himself. It shouldn’t be pretty or attractive in the least, Taeyong has never thought someone getting out of bed in such a dishevelled state could be called adorable, but he is. In fact, Taeyong wanted to bite him.

   Taeyong shakes his head to banish his evil thoughts. He claps a hand onto the omega’s shoulder. “Listen up,” he says, raising his voice, “This is important.”

   The man hums and slouches against him. Taeyong’s pupils blow at the contact. It’s not supposed to feel this good. This is nothing special.


	2. Chapter 2

   Yuta springs to the other side of the bed. “Fuck!” He yells, startled. He then keeps on repeating the swear word as if it is the only thing in his vocabulary bank.

  “Are- are you okay?” Taeyong tries, a bit concerned since this was, in fact, his mate. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No! Fuck!”

  If Yuta continues to speak at this decibel, Taeyong will be deaf pretty soon. He holds out his arms to him, trying to find a way to soothe him. “I- ”

  “Dude! I thought I was dreaming!” He then proceeds to make a guttural noise which scares Taeyong. “What are you going to do about this!”

  He keeps on scooting back away from Taeyong and — “Watch out!”

  Yuta falls to the ground with a loud thud, followed by a pained groan. “Fuck you,” Taeyong hears Yuta say, and he feels guilty even though he didn’t push him off. He walks around the bed and sees Yuta grabbing the sheets off the bed and covering himself.

 They stare at each other and Taeyong suddenly realizes what is happening. “Sorry,” he says awkwardly and turns around, scratching his head.

   “Okay, I’m done,” Yuta says after what feels like a million years. Taeyong turns back to him and he looks tense, his jaw locked and lips pressed into a thin line. The neck of his T-shirt is so wide Taeyong furrows his brows, but then he remembers he’s not in the place to comment on his clothing.

  “I’m sorry,” Taeyong says again, and apologizing is the only thing he’s been doing the whole morning. Yuta touches the back of his neck gingerly, and Taeyong gulps.

  On contact, it sends pins and needles all over his body like he was full of static. He jumps, and Taeyong is taken aback by his vigorous reaction. Yuta starts with an inarticulate sound and it escalates into an ear-splitting shriek that has Taeyong frozen in surprise.

  By the time Yuta is done screaming, he picks up Taeyong’s shirt from the floor and throws it at him, shoving Taeyong out of his house. The door slams in Taeyong’s face and he stands there, dumbfounded. _What_ , he thinks, _am I supposed to do now._

   His phone is still on the bedside table, and so is his wallet. He rummages in his trousers’ pockets and finds his keys, and at least he has his shirt in one hand. Taeyong quickly slips on his shirt, glancing behind him to see if anyone decided to check out the commotion. “Yuta,” he tries, and earns a faint “Go away!”

-

   Yuta slides down to the ground, his back against the door. _What the fuck_. _This didn’t happen_. He touches the bite mark again, wondering what it looks like.

    _Just like that?_ he thinks. Things really do happen unexpectedly in life. Yuta doesn’t feel the terror or anger he should be feeling, nor could he do anything that makes sense, maybe call the police, or something. The only thing he is able to do is to sit on the floor, dumbfounded, mind blank and unable to process the situation.

   His head is full of white noise. Suddenly his doorbell is ringing and his neighbour’s voice reaches him. “Yuta!”

    _Well shit_ , Yuta thinks, scrambling to get up. He flings open his front door. “Hey!” he says in his most cheery voice possible. “Taeyeon-noona!” She hands him the kimchi that she promised him yesterday, and furrows her brows.

  “Hello, Yuta,” she says, “I’m glad you’re so energetic today even though Ten threw that wild party last night.” She gives the man who is currently trying to look as not out of place as possible the side eye. “Who is this?”

  “Oh,” Yuta says, and trails off, because he can’t really answer. “This is…uh…”

  “Taeyong. Lee Taeyong,” he says hurriedly, wiping his hands roughly on his jeans and holding them out for a handshake. “I’m- I’m Yuta’s-”

   “Shut up.” Yuta stops him before he says something weird. He grabs him by the back of his shirt and hauls him inside the house. “I’m sorry, noona,” he says good-naturedly, “He’s just silly.”

   Taeyeon quirks her eyebrow in interest. _Weird young love_ , her eyes say. _Not_ , Yuta tries to tell her.

  “He was out here, and I didn’t know what he was doing,” she says, “If nothing’s wrong, then I’m heading back.”

   “Sure!” he replies enthusiastically. “See you later!”

  “Bye,” Taeyong’s voice sounds from right behind him, and Yuta jumps because he forgot he was there. The moment he closes the door after Taeyeon waves at both of them, he turns around and scowls at Taeyong.

   Folding his arms, he asks him, “Why are you trying to act so friendly?”

  “First impressions matter,” Taeyong says, his being so close Yuta thinks _Do we know each other well enough to talk at this distance?_

 _What makes you think you’ll see her again?_ his nasty mind spits. “You already ruined it by hanging around out there,” he says instead.

  “Hey,” Taeyong says, grabbing his arm. “I’m sorry. I really am. But we have to talk this out, okay?”

   Yuta screeches when Taeyong touches him. It feels weird, Taeyong’s fingers on his skin are hot and scalding like fire. He covers his mouth when he remembers Taeyeon-noona’s existence. He doesn’t want her to come over to check on him. “Don’t touch me,” he hisses. Yuta hates how much he _does want him to_ , but self-discipline is something important.

  Taeyong releases Yuta and pushes his hands into his pockets as if to stop himself from accidentally coming into contact with him again. He purses his lips, and couples it with apologetic eyes and — for the love of God, Yuta can’t find it in himself to shout at him anymore like he had wanted to.

  “Ugh, whatever,” he says, “I don’t know. Go… make yourself comfortable or something.” He leaves Taeyong standing where he is and plops down on the couch. “I hate this but I am an adult and my mother says I have to deal with things properly now.”

  Taeyong walks over to him cautiously. “I’m sorry.”

  “You can’t take this back anymore, and I don’t want to hear you say you’re sorry for another time or else I will hit you,” Yuta says, sitting up, “I just want to know what you are going to do about this.”

  Taeyong wrings his fingers in front of him, and Yuta is a bit annoyed by how he is the one bitten but also the one trying to coax an answer out of Taeyong. He also remembers to praise himself for being all calm and collected, excluding the time when he was screaming. "Sit down,” he tells Taeyong. “I’m tired of having to look up at you.”

  Taeyong is wary when he settles down next to him, like he thinks Yuta finds him a disturbing presence. Truthfully, he does, but it hurts his pride to admit he is intimidated by an alpha. He turns to face Taeyong, stretching out his legs in the space between them to form a protective buffer. “Say shit,” he says.

  Taeyong stares and him and he feels his cheeks heat up. So does his ears. And so does his whole body. _Fuck’s sake, this isn’t the right time!_ He wants to kill himself or dig a hole for himself to crawl into forever and never come out. Yuta makes an annoyed sound of frustration.

-

  Taeyong notices Yuta has suddenly gone all silent and withdrawn, and he can’t help but wonder what’s going on. “Are you okay?” he asks, leaning in closer to inspect him. Yuta scoots back for the distance he had shortened.

  “It’s nothing,” he says, and he looks genuinely unwell.

  Taeyong is not convinced, because anyone with eyes won’t be convinced. Yuta’s face is flushed a pinkish colour and Taeyong would have found this adorable if Yuta isn’t starting to sweat as well. His body moves of its own free will and he scoots over to touch Yuta’s forehead.

   He flinches at the temperature. “Yuta,” he starts, “You’re burning up. Are you feeling unwell? Should I take you to the doctor?” He’s heard about people who go down with fever after sex.

   “No,” he says weakly, “Just leave me alone. I don’t have the strength to deal with this now.”

  Taeyong hates himself for wanting to touch him at this time, but he thinks it’s because of the pheromones that are slowly filling up the room. It makes his head swim when Yuta cocks his head in the most attractive way possible.

  “Leave if you’re not trying to help,” he said, much to Taeyong’s confusion.

   “...What?”

  “Do you have any common sense?” he averts his eyes embarrassedly. He scents arousal on Taeyong, but the other is too busy trying to hide it to converse properly.

 _This won’t do_ , he thinks, then turns to Taeyong angrily. “Look, you marked me. You should know you will trigger my heat if you have listened to any of your sex-ed classes, so you _should_ deal with this mess,” he says, grabbing Taeyong by the collar and pulls him close. “We can talk about this,” he points harshly at the mark on his shoulder, “after everything. But _you’re_ responsible.”

  Taeyong gulps inwardly and nods. _This is one hell of an omega_ , he thinks. Yuta sighs and releases him, sitting up properly then slumps as if the outburst drained a lot from him. “My heats usually last three days, so if you’re planning to stay I think you should probably tell somebody.” With that, he pushes himself up from the sofa and walks to the kitchen to pour himself a cold drink, like he didn’t care about what he just said.

   Yuta, for an omega who speaks the way he does, is surprisingly soft during his heat. His sex drive isn’t that high, so he spends most of the time curled up and wanting affection. Taeyong holds Yuta who looks up at him with bleary eyes and red cheeks. Yuta fits so well in his arms it gives him the illusion that he has held him many times before. _This is probably the magic of a bond_ , he thinks, a little embarrassed to be this happy watching someone sleep.

  He runs his fingers through Yuta’s hair, a little matty from his sweat. _Ew_ , old Taeyong would say. But that Taeyong from twenty hours before is gone, the moment he laid his eyes on Yuta.


	3. Chapter 3

  “Wake up.” Yuta grabs Taeyong by his shoulders and shakes him. Taeyong wakes up to Yuta sitting firmly in his lap, a leg planted on each side of him. Oddly arousing.

  “I- Yuta- What- ”

  “Shut up,” he says, a little annoyed, “Touch me.” Taeyong’s ears turn red at such blatant words.

  Sometime later when Yuta arches his back below him, his mouth falling open and Taeyong realizes why he had claimed him. He was very… tempting.

-

  Yuta looks himself in the mirror and brings a hand to his red face. _I can’t even take care of myself_ , he thinks. The heat in his body doesn’t go away even though the air conditioner is cranked low, and he knows that is how it goes every single time. But this time he has an alpha in his house, not to mention he’s _his_ alpha, even though it sounds foreign on his tongue. He didn’t expect it to last this long.

   Yuta had thought having a mate would make going through his heat easier, but it only seemed to drag itself out because his body thinks he can take it. He never really understood what the hype was about having a gentle alpha, but now he knows it really helps.

  He feels slick slide out of his body, and it is warm and sticky. “Taeyong,” he calls out for him involuntarily, and he opens the door in a second. To a certain extent, he already likes to depend on Taeyong for everything.

   “Are you okay?” Taeyong asks, his pupils dilating at the pheromones, and he struggled to keep his cool.

   “Don’t,” Yuta says, grabbing his wrist, “You don’t need to hold back.” He lets Taeyong slip a hand into his shirt, wet with perspiration, and he whimpers when Taeyong drags his fingers over the sensitive skin of his stomach.

  He pulls Taeyong down by his collar. “Just take me here,” he tells him, “I don’t mind.” Taeyong growls, the sound rumbling in his chest and it makes Yuta feel better for no reason at all. He just wants Taeyong to be around.

   Taeyong teases him under his shirt and he stretches out his neck, making keening sounds. “Anything you say,” he says, “You look terribly fine.” Taeyong sucks on his Adam’s apple while pushing him back until they hit the sink. Yuta preens under his touch and the ball of fire in his abdomen grows when Taeyong plays with the waistband of his briefs.

   “Are you going to take it off or not?” He asks Taeyong, panting heavily. It is already soaked through with his slick and precum, and it stuck to his skin uncomfortably.

   Taeyong traces his lips, his neck, and his collarbones slowly. “Can’t wait?” he asks, taking his sweet time in massaging Yuta’s waist. Yuta squirms when he skims his fingers over his nipples, the red buds hard and sensitive, and his legs buckle under him. Taeyong catches him and holds him up against the counter with one leg in between his. Yuta can feel his erection, and he closes his legs and ruts on Taeyong’s thigh, wanting to get some friction on his own.

  “Don’t be so impatient,” Taeyong says, even though Yuta can feel him buzzing with adrenaline as well. He hikes up Yuta’s shirt and guides his hands to it. “Hold it, pet,” he tells him, “I promise you will feel better.” Yuta positively _mewled_ when Taeyong buries his head in his chest and starts to lick him. He has a warm, wet tongue around his nipple, and Yuta throws his head back when he tugs softly at it.

  He can’t cover his mouth with both hands occupied, and he lets out the most embarrassing moan that has ever come out of him. Yuta looks down at Taeyong’s head, still busily making his whole being feel like jelly just using his mouth. “T-Taeyong,” he uttered brokenly, but he doesn’t know how to continue his sentence when Taeyong hums in reply and the vibration runs through his whole body.

  “You’re so wet,” Taeyong says, finally pulling down his boxer briefs.

   “A-and you’re still stalling,” Yuta grits out between his teeth. “Get on with it.” He pushes Taeyong away, pulls his shirt over his head and throws it onto the floor in one swift move. Yuta reaches for the bulge in Taeyong’s pants and rubs it with the heel of his palm, earning a sharp inhale from Taeyong.

  “Come on,” he says, “Put it inside me.” Taeyong grabs him by his hips and lets him slide back down to the floor against his leg. He turns Yuta around so he is facing the mirror, and makes him hold the edge of the counter.

   Taeyong’s hand trails from the back of Yuta’s thigh to the curve of his bottom and stops there. He pushes two fingers into his hole at once and Yuta immediately tightens around them, whimpering. Yuta is still loose from last night and he is naturally prepared during his heat, so Taeyong knows he isn’t hurting. “Relax,” he tells him, an arm around his waist.

   Yuta doesn’t give him any reply, but Taeyong feels him trying to unclench his muscles. “It’s alright,” he coaxes him, kissing his tense back.

   “Continue,” Yuta gasps, “I’m fine.” Taeyong spreads his fingers, and Yuta’s slick dribbles out along the insides of his leg, and it has Yuta trying to close his legs in self-consciousness.

   Taeyong stops him and chuckles. “Can’t get embarrassed so easily, can we?” He asks, nosing behind Yuta’s ear. He sticks another finger into Yuta, and watches him in the mirror. His body is flushed a shade of pink, and his ears are particularly red. Twisting his digits, Taeyong speaks right into Yuta’s ear. “You’re so adorable,” he tells him, admiring his bashful expression and how he swallows a moan.

  “If y-you’re only good at talking, then- ” Taeyong shuts him up by pulling out his fingers, and bracing himself on Yuta’s rim.

  “I’m going in, okay?” Yuta nods, looking down.

  He pushes into him slowly, and Yuta breathes in and out in an erratic and arousing way. It makes a weird squelching sound and it is obnoxiously loud, making Yuta blush. Yuta stands on his tiptoes so Taeyong enters him easier, the muscles in his legs trembling, and Taeyong knows he won’t be able to hold himself up soon. He gives him some time to adjust and get used to the stimulation, giving him soothing kisses on his shoulder.

  “Move,” Yuta says impatiently, but the sweat trickling down his temples made Taeyong’s heart soften.

  “Give yourself some time, hon.” Taeyong starts to rock into him lightly, grabbing his butt teasingly. Yuta jumps when he does, making a surprised sound.

  If Taeyong’s arm is not steadying him he probably has already melted into a puddle on the floor. There is no strength in his legs anymore and Taeyong seems to know. He leans down and props himself up on his elbows, but the position makes him feel Taeyong better and he doesn’t know if it’s a good thing. “Move,” he tells him again, and this time Taeyong complies.

  The lewd sound of Taeyong thrusting in and out of Yuta fills the bathroom, with Yuta’s gasps punctuating it. He puts a hand over his mouth, muffling the embarrassing sounds, and it triggers something in Taeyong. “I want to hear you,” he says, his voice deep and raspy, and Yuta can’t help but listen. He puts his hand down but still keeps his mouth shut, squeezing his eyes shut when Taeyong hits his prostate.

  He moans out loud on reflex, clenching tight around Taeyong. “W-wait,” he says, “T-there- ” His toes are barely skimming the floor, and it gives him a terrible sense of pleasure and anxiety at once.

  “Look,” Taeyong says, leaning down so his chest is lined up against Yuta’s back. He uses a hand to tilt Yuta’s chin up. The mirror is blurry with condensation because of their body heat, but Yuta can see himself well: bent over the counter, hair falling into his eyes and — _heaven’s sake_ — his alpha kissing his neck, looking so relaxed in comparison to the strength of his thrusts. Taeyong closes his hand around the base of his cock and starts to rub along the shaft with the pads of his fingers. “You’re the best thing I have ever seen.”

  His self-control flies out of the window and he keens for Taeyong to fuck him harder, grinding into the circle of his fist. He comes into the warm palm of his hand, but his heat isn’t satisfied until his alpha is. The pheromones built up in the small space is suffocating, Yuta’s chest heaves from his climax, and his body tingles in pleasure. Taeyong’s knot is swelling inside of him and he can feel his thrusts getting more irregular. He blenches when the knot catches on his rim, but he does the most he can to hold his pained hiss in.

  Without warning, Taeyong comes inside him with a low grunt, and Yuta shudders at the scorching temperature. He whimpers when Taeyong pulls out of him, his seed dripping out and along his thighs. Taeyong turns Yuta around and lifts him a little, letting Yuta lean on him. “Sorry,” he says, trying to find the best way to hold Yuta.

  “Why didn’t you knot me?” Yuta asks, genuinely surprised, his chest heaving heavily. His limbs are jelly and he slumps against Taeyong.

   “I don’t know if you wanted that,” Taeyong says honestly.

  “Knot me,” Yuta tells Taeyong, his voice shaky and desperate. “I want it.”

  “But- ”

  “But I want you to knot me,” he says, unrelenting, bordering on throwing a fit.

  “Okay,” Taeyong says under his breath, “But let’s do that in the bedroom, alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there :33  
> I originally didn't plan to write this chapter but well - here it is  
> I can't really do smut but I'm trying my best TAT  
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

  One of the first things Taeyong finds out about Yuta aside from being able to run his mouth very well is that he is forgetful.

  Yuta forgets about Taeyong’s existence and walks out of the bathroom naked, and Taeyong does not expect it. He spits out the water in his mouth and chokes on some of it, and suddenly Yuta is too conscious of his body. However he tries to play it cool, like it’s nothing special that a person he barely knows and has claimed him on a whim is watching him frantically cover himself with a towel.

  “What,” he snaps, and Taeyong sits up straight.

  “I didn’t see anything,” Taeyong says while wiping the table top, and Yuta doesn’t know if he’s trying to make the situation less awkward or not.

  “Oh you saw _everything_ ,” his sarcastic self had to say.

  Taeyong’s ears turn red at the tips and Yuta doesn’t know what to feel. So he glares at him because he doesn’t know what else he can do. _Say something_ , he thinks desperately.

-

  After Yuta puts on his clothes they try to get comfortable on the couch but fails because they are too aware of each other presence’s, and finally Taeyong breaks the silence.

  “So,” he starts, “Do you want to tell me about yourself?”

  “No _you_ tell me about yourself,” Yuta immediately says, and both of them know this conversation is not going to go smoothly.

  “Lee Taeyong,” he says, holding out his hand, and Yuta is tired of this greeting already.

  “Come on," he says, “I know we don’t know each other but you did claim me. We’re not supposed to be this uncommunicative.” He crosses the room for his wallet and sits down next to Taeyong, pulling out his ID card and handing it to him. “Here, I don’t know how to do this either.”

   Yuta is a little worried when Taeyong stares intently at it. “Nakamoto…Yuta,” he reads, “You’re Japanese?”

  “Do I not look Japanese to you?”

  “Oh...I- Things from Japan are so cute.” Yuta looks at him in disbelief. _This person has a weird brain_.

    _What is he trying to say? Is he trying to tell me I’m cute or what?_ He decides to leave it, and takes his card back. He scoots closer to Taeyong, who looks surprised. Yuta thinks it’s a bit ironic, since their roles are reversed from a few days ago. _I mean, he fucked me, he can’t really do anything more to me_ , he thinks, and nudges Taeyong with his foot. “You can ask.”

  “Why are you in Korea?”

  “My family is in Japan,” he tells him, “I came here to study. Since middle school.”

  “You’re studying? How old are you?” Taeyong’s eyes widened in alarm, and it makes Yuta want to tease him.

  “I just turned eighteen,” he says shyly, smiling innocently. “But I’m old enough to know what I have to know.”

  Taeyong stares, agape. “What,” he says, “is wrong with me.”

   Yuta bats his eyelashes at him, and Taeyong almost dies on the spot.

   Yuta laughs an ugly laugh at his expression. “I’m twenty-six,” he tells him honestly, “I can’t believe you fell for that. Do I look eighteen to you?” Taeyong looks like he doesn’t know what to do when Yuta slaps the couch in amusement.

  “I’m taking a post-graduate course in psychology,” he tells Taeyong, who is still dazed. “I _am_ a student.”

  “Oh,” he says. “Oh. You just gave me a heart attack.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Interior design. I started a business with my friend.”

  “Really.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing. It suits your pretty face.” Yuta smirks. “I’m probably older than you. You can call me hyung,” he drags out the syllable, trying to make Taeyong embarrassed.

  “I’m the same age as you are,” Taeyong deadpans. “My birthday is in July.”

  Yuta stops in his tracks. _Oh_ , he thinks and frowns. “Okay sorry,” he says, the annoying grin wiped off his face. “You’re older by three months. But remember, _only_ three months. I’m not going to use honorifics.”

  “It’s fine,” Taeyong says, looking extremely pleased but Yuta doesn’t know why. He shifts a little uncomfortably, because Taeyong is a literal pain in the ass. His lower body is sore and he wants to be in bed, but he’s told himself he won’t be getting that luxury until he sorts this out.

  “Alright, Taeyong,” he says, “Let’s make our arrangement workable. I just want you to keep in mind that I’m not easy to put up with and you don’t control me because you marked me, okay?”

  Taeyong nods, playing with his fingers. “Yeah,” he mumbles, “Sorry.”

  “What are you apologizing for?”

  “Uh- I marked you without asking you first,” he says, his head bowed, and Yuta suddenly feels like a mother reprimanding her child. “I’m sorry, I really am. Will you let me make up for it?”

  Taeyong looks sincere, but Yuta thinks he shouldn’t be so easy.

  “We’re not doing this the right way,” Yuta sighs. He can’t treat Taeyong as a one-night stand anymore, but he really doesn’t have any emotional attachment to him whatsoever. All they had was a bond, and it feels like the most important thing and irrelevant at the same time.

  Taeyong pulls a piece of crumpled paper from his trousers pocket and spreads it out. He looks at what he scribbled on it with a frown, and Yuta snatches it from him.

  1. _Apologize_
  2. _Apologize again and if he hits you, you deserve it_
  3. _Do things to make him forgive you_
  4. _Try to be a good person?????_



  Yuta can’t stifle his laughter. “You don’t actually have a plan,” he says, “Be more specific and I might actually think you want to butter me up.” He hands the piece of paper back to Taeyong who looks traumatized.

  “This was top secret,” he mutters, pocketing it. Yuta laughs again at his sullen expression.

  “Also, I have a boyfriend. What are you going to do?” Yuta asks, crossing his arms. He just wants to make Taeyong feel bad.

  “I don’t know,” he replies, almost sighing. “But I don’t think I can give you back.”

  “Ha, you don’t _think_ , what makes you think you can? Look at me,” Yuta sneers, deliberately showing the mark on his shoulder. He had panicked on the inside when he asked that question, thinking _What if he thinks it’s terrific if I have do have someone so he can leave me?_ Despite the uneasiness in his stomach, he is determined to make Taeyong go down one hell of a guilt trip.

  “I mean,” Taeyong starts mumble, “I’m not keen on letting you go back to him either…”

  “What are you going to do with me then?”

  Taeyong rubs his temple and looks up at Yuta’s frown. “Okay, look, I’m sorry. Really. I don’t know how much this bothers you but — okay probably a lot — but I hope you can tell your boyfriend you can’t be together anymore.

  “I know it’s my fault and I’m responsible for you. And… the least I can offer is for you to stay with me.  But if you insist you have nothing to do with me and you still want me to leave you alone, then I’m… going to be fine with that as well.”

   Taeyong covers his face with one hand, and Yuta can see that he is probably beating himself up. “I’m not really in a relationship,” he tells Taeyong, and he tries to make the atmosphere lighter, “Nobody wants me anyway.”

   Taeyong pauses, then says something that surprises the both of them. “Do you want to get married?” he asks. Yuta is visibly shocked, and for a moment he just stares with his mouth open.

  “Try again,” Yuta says under his breath, “Let’s not go so fast.”

  “Since- since you’re my mate now, d- do you want to live with me?” Taeyong asks, knowing full well it shouldn’t unfold this way. “I mean, if you don’t mind, my place is-”

  “No.” Yuta cuts him off. “I don’t even know you.”

  “But,” Taeyong says, “I do want to get to know you.”

   Yuta winces, conflicted. _Yes_ , he thinks, but he doesn't know if Taeyong means it genuinely or he just wanted to look responsible by keeping him in his house.

  “At least, we can be friends?” Taeyong suggested, his eyes earnest.

  _Friends_. The word makes his blood boil even though it shouldn’t. Friendship is a great thing. However, this is his _mate_ and he refuses to believe this _coward_ has the nerve to only want to be friends. _Be a fucking man_ , Yuta seethes, even though he was the one who has been parring Taeyong’s advances a few moments earlier. “Okay,” Yuta says through gritted teeth, not knowing why his mood is swinging so violently. He takes Taeyong’s outstretched hand in a grip with the most strength he could muster. Taeyong yelps in pain, and Yuta is satisfied momentarily.


	5. Chapter 5

  It’s been two weeks and Taeyong learns that Yuta can’t cook to save his life (he had argued that he knew how to cook instant noodles), so he insists that he makes them dinner. Yuta flutters around him, peeking at whatever he is doing because he is a dummy in cooking and everything seems new to him. He tells Taeyong he is afraid he would burn down his kitchen, but Taeyong shuts him up by saying that he is more likely to.

   Taeyong is glad it’s summer break so he gets to spend time with Yuta, but Yuta seems to be bored out of his mind. “I know I agreed to meet you every Sunday, but that doesn’t entail the right to walk into my house every day,” he says. Sometimes Taeyong shows up early in the morning to make or deliver him breakfast, but Yuta knows himself well, and he is an ungrateful bitch. “We should go somewhere fun.”

  “To do what? Drink?” Taeyong asks, “I’m sorry, I don’t have that kind of hobby. And I hate going out.” Yuta clicks his tongue.

  “I can’t believe that is the first thing that comes to your mind. Why do you think of me like this? An amusement park is fun too.” Taeyong snorts, turning off the stove.

  “Remember where I found you?”

  “...You were there too,” he says, unable to make sense of his argument.

  “That was, what, the second time, I’ve ever been to a party.”

  Taeyong wipes the counter with a cloth, and hands Yuta their chopsticks. “Go set the table,” he orders.

  “This is _my_ house,” Yuta mutters, walking out.

  “Then why am I the one cooking?” Taeyong’s voice sounds from far away.

  Not wanting to lose, Yuta yells from the living room. “I could have done that myself!”

  Taeyong comes out of the kitchen and sets down their bowls on the table. “Nevermind,” he sighs, “I don’t want you to live off ramen. I’m worried about your health.”

  “You don’t need to be,” Yuta says, pulling out his chair and sitting down with a mild temper that stems from nowhere. “I can take care of myself just fine.”

  “Whatever you say,” Taeyong says, ending their little bicker, and Yuta is a bit disappointed. Taeyong piles food into his bowl, but he doesn’t look at him. “Eat more. You’re too skinny.”

  “S-so are you,” Yuta says, clumsily reciprocating Taeyong’s actions. Taeyong seems to find it a tad bit amusing because he tries to suppress his grin, and Yuta’s cheeks heat up. “I’m stronger than you are,” Yuta says, defiant, even though he knows it’s not true.

  “Yes,” Taeyong answers, and honestly this is what Yuta fears the most. _If Taeyong continues to do that I’m going to run out of ways to rile him up_. He doesn’t know why he is so adamant about making Taeyong feel annoyed, but that is what he has been doing since he agreed to get to know him.

   _I’m testing his patience to… to see if he’s going to indulge in me_ , he thinks, _What am I doing?_ He shudders at the thought, and Taeyong eyes him weirdly. “What are you looking at,” he hisses, trying to be threatening, but he doesn’t know in Taeyong’s eyes, he is a kitten baring his milk teeth. Taeyong’s eyes crinkle into a smile, and Yuta turns his attention back to his food, embarrassed.

  “Ugh,” he says around a mouthful of rice.

  Taeyong looks up, alarmed. “Is it bad?” he asks worriedly, afraid Yuta is actually allergic to fish.

  “Nothing,” Yuta says, “I just thought about how… it’s almost July already. There’s so little of summer left.”

  “Do you want to go somewhere?” Taeyong asks, not liking the wistful look in Yuta’s eyes. “We can go. I’m… I was joking about not wanting to.”

  Yuta picks at his food, sulking. “I miss Japan,” he says, “It’s not like I don’t like it here, but I want to go home.”

  “Can’t you?”

  “I- My parents divorced recently and I- “ Yuta doesn’t know why he is telling Taeyong this, but he has no idea how to stop himself either. “They told me they won’t work out anymore, but I’ve never really known the reason behind it. But to come and think of it, since I was young they were distant.”

  Taeyong looks at Yuta, who is eating silently. “Let’s go,” he says, but Yuta shakes his head.

  “You’re part of the reason why I can’t,” he mumbles, “What if they know about this? They let me study abroad on the condition I’d keep myself out of trouble.” 

  The silence stretches out between them. Taeyong opens his mouth to speak, but Yuta stops him. “I don’t mean you’re trouble,” he says, “I mean- I just don’t know what they’ll think about this.”

  Taeyong swallows his apology, because Yuta seems to have had enough of it. Instead, he opts to reach for Yuta’s hand across the table and squeezes it before he draws it away. “It’s okay,” Yuta says, hiding his hands under the table, and Taeyong wonders if he had done a wrong thing. “Really, it’s fine.” 

  “I wish you didn’t keep everything pent up inside yourself, Yuta,” Taeyong says, “I understand you don’t know me well, but I promise you can talk to me and I won’t judge you.”

  Yuta sighs, looking to the side. “I said, it’s fine,” he tells Taeyong, “That’s enough of that. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

  Taeyong wants to comfort him, but he can see that Yuta doesn’t really know how to express himself, perhaps it’s because he has never tried to. _I’ll ease him into doing that eventually_ , he thinks. He knows Yuta is strong and independent, but it hurts more to see somebody like that being upset. They eat the rest of their meal in silence, and his cooking suddenly tasted bland. He wonders if Yuta thinks that way as well.

  Yuta offers to clean up because Taeyong cooked and ‘it’s my house’, so Taeyong wanders around the living room, occasionally walking by the kitchen to see how Yuta is doing. He tries to lighten the atmosphere by engaging in small talk, but it has little effect.

  For a while, Yuta looked constipated with thoughts and Taeyong almost laughs at his set jaw and knitted brows. Suddenly, Yuta turns to him and asks, “Did you bite me anywhere?”

  “What do you mean?” Taeyong is taken aback by his question, and Yuta looks at him incredulously like Taeyong must know what he is talking about and is trying to frustrate him.

  “You know,” Yuta says, “what alphas always do when... you know.”

  Taeyong laughs. “We don’t necessarily bite people all the time,” he says, enjoying the way Yuta shifts embarrassedly. “Did you meet a lot of alphas who do that?” Yuta is adorable, he thinks, and one should always tease pretty things.

  “You’re the first alpha I’ve ever spent my heat with. How am I supposed to know?” Yuta snaps.

  Taeyong stops. _Oh_ , he thought, _I’m his first alpha_. Yuta grows conscious of his lasting stare and frowns. “What?” he asks in an annoyed tone, but his cheeks are flushed red.

  “I just…” Taeyong finds himself unable to conjure up a coherent sentence. “I thought you were- I mean, I- I thought you were _experienced_.”

  “I’m not,” Yuta grips the utensils in his hands hard. “I- I’m not telling you this so you can laugh at me.”

  “I’m not laughing at you, Yuta,” Taeyong says, “I’m just- overwhelmed.”

  Yuta purses his lips and turns off the faucet, his face flushed. “I mean, thank you,” Taeyong says.

  “I had no choice,” Yuta retorted, “You’re not half bad but- I had no choice.”

  Taeyong bows his head. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I don’t know how many times you want me to say this, but I _am_ sorry.”

  “But- the important thing is, what do you do when… do you use suppressants all the time?”

  Yuta looks up and blinks at Taeyong, his eyes round. “Yeah,” he answers, “What else can I do?”

  “It’s not- I know it’s not healthy to use so much of that. And I do care about you, so… would you let me take care of you during your heats, or would that be too-”

  “Okay,” Yuta tells him, much more resolute than Taeyong thought he would be. “You’re my mate,” he says, “You should be doing this.”

   _I should be doing this_. Taeyong wonders if Yuta really wants him to do this, or if thinks he is supposed to let him. “Where did you get the idea that I’d bite you?” he asks, and Yuta cringes.

  “My friend, mind you, my only friend,” Yuta answers, “I keep on seeing bite marks on him and frankly speaking, I’m afraid one day he’s going to die because of it. He’s called Ten, by the way, I think you’ll know him sooner or later.”

  “What do you mean Ten?” Taeyong asks, “He teaches dance, right?”

  Yuta turns to him, surprised. “Ten is my best friend.”

  “Johnny is _my_ best friend,” Taeyong says, and he doesn’t know where the tension came from. So they’re starting to fight for the ownership of JohnTen now?

  “Okay, fine,” Yuta says, his eyes bright with the sudden rivalry, “Our lives overlap a bit more than I thought.”

-

  Only then does Yuta remember he has not informed Ten about this major incident. “You need a good dicking,” Ten says, his voice coming out of the phone tinny.

  “I _had_ a good dicking,” Yuta spits after checking Taeyong has his earbuds in, Ten’s laugh driving him crazy, “I just need a solution to this. How do I tell my mom?”

  “I don’t know, show up and introduce him?” Ten says.

  “I never had a boyfriend and I suddenly have a mate,” Yuta says, annoyed. “I think that works great and my mom totally won’t freak out.” He tucks his legs under him. “To be honest, I think my dad will hit Taeyong. And I really don’t want them to do any of those things so you better help me come up with something feasible.”

  “Maybe you should tell your mom that you’re dating someone now and then ten years later tell her Taeyong is your mate,” Ten suggests, “It’s better than letting her know straight away.”

  Yuta hums, picking at the nonexistent dust on his clothes. “Tell her right now,” Ten says, “Like, at this moment. Quick!”

-

  A few days later Yuta decides that Ten’s plan is _not_ a good idea but it’s the best idea he has, and he thinks he must be under some kind of stupid spell when he hands Taeyong the phone. Taeyong looks at him with an eyebrow raised and takes it. “Hello?” he says, and then frowns. Yuta watches him intently, wondering how it is going to play out. “S-sumimasen?” Taeyong stutters, and throws Yuta panicked glances. “Uh- I- Yuta- What?”

   _Fuck_ , Yuta thinks, the sudden realization sinking in. He snatches his phone from Taeyong and speaks quickfire into it. “Ma, I’m sorry I- I forgot he can’t speak Japanese. Yeah, yeah, I’ll get back to you later, yes, I love you, okay bye.” Yuta hangs up and runs to the sofa, flinging himself into it face first.

  Yuta muffles his hysterical yells with a cushion, and Taeyong has to come over and check on him. “Hey, are you still alive?” he asks, “What’s going on?”

  “Don’t talk to me!” Yuta shouts into the cushion, “I’m an idiot!”

  Taeyong sits down next to Yuta and contemplates if he should pat his back in comfort. He doesn’t know why he finds Yuta’s distressed sounds so amusing, but he has a feeling that Yuta will kick him if he laughs out loud. “What happened?” he asks again, hoping Yuta has recovered a bit more.

  Yuta sits up and throws the cushion to the other end of the room. “I’m an  _idiot_ ,” he says again, looking Taeyong right in the eye.

  “You’re not,” Taeyong says, trying to soothe him, but Yuta only seemed to get even more anguished.

  “I am,” he wails, “I tried to make you talk to my mom but I forgot you didn’t know Japanese I- ” The next part of his sentence is replaced by yet another bout of distraught sounds.

  Taeyong is a bit shocked that Yuta suddenly decided to introduce him to his mother, since he had said that he didn’t want to just a few days ago. However, he chooses to wait until Yuta calms down to say anything else.

  “If it makes you feel better, you can talk to my mom,” Taeyong offers.

  “How is that going to make me feel better?” Yuta asks incredulously, his whole being expressing confusion.

  Taeyong doesn’t give him any response, only pulling out his phone from his pocket and giving his mother a video call while Yuta watches in horror. “Don’t,” Yuta says, his voice small, “I don’t want to- I’m not ready.”

   _God bless_ , Taeyong thinks, when his mother picks up before Yuta can object any more or maybe find a way to aggressively dispose of his phone. “Hey, mom!” he says, holding up his phone so that she can see Yuta, “This is him!”

  Yuta’s mouth falls open. “Oh- hello,” he says, panicking, “Taeyong- please don’t- I mean, hi, auntie.”

  “It’s mom for you,”  she says, “Has he been treating you well?”

  Yuta nods frantically, eyes wide. Taeyong’s mom smiles and turns to Taeyong. “Yuta is pretty,” she says, making Yuta blush furiously. “You hit the jackpot.” Taeyong and his mom share an air high five through the phone, and Taeyong looks so satisfied Yuta has to look away for a moment.

  “I expect you to bring him home soon.”

  “Of course,” Taeyong says, grinning, “Say something, Yuta.”

  “I- ” Taeyong turns the camera to him, and suddenly Yuta finds himself at a loss for words, which is ridiculous for somebody who talks so much. There is a lump in his throat and he is embarrassed, but Taeyong’s mom doesn’t seem to mind.

  “You have to tell me if he’s not good to you, okay?” She says, “He’ll be up for a beating.” Yuta nods timidly, smiling awkwardly when she laughs. “You really are a treasure. I look forward to seeing you in person.”

  “Thank you,” Yuta says, almost trembling because of how nervous he is. “I- I look forward to seeing you too.”

  Taeyong turns the phone back to himself and waves. “He’s a bit skittish right now,” Taeyong tells her, earning a kick from Yuta, “He’s usually loud. You’ll see when we come home, bye.”

  Yuta breathes in and out to calm his nerves when Taeyong ends the call. “Wh-why did you do that?” Yuta swallows and asks, “Aren’t you scared your mom won’t like me?”

  “My mom liked you the moment I told her about you,” Taeyong says, “To some extent, she wants to compensate for what I did.”

  “I can’t tell my mom about this, I really can’t,” Yuta whimpers, suddenly feeling very vulnerable, “They- They’ve always been overlooking my mistakes, I can’t disappoint them anymore. I don’t think they ever wanted me.”

  “Taeyong, I’m going to tell you this, but I'm only going to tell you once. My parents’ marriage was arranged,” he says, curling up on himself, “Because my dad’s family has a huge company on their hands. I have no intention of being part of it, but- I told them to let me study what I wanted, then I would go back and sort things out. I suppose- they expect me to get married to- I don’t know, an heir to another company? I know they don’t want this either, but it’s the family.”

  Taeyong uses a few minutes to register what Yuta said, and huffs out a heavy breath. “Yuta, I’m sorry,” he says.

  “Don’t be sorry,” Yuta is quick to say this time, “I won’t be better off that way. Maybe you’re better than that. Why did you think I was so willing to accept you? I don’t think anyone would stay put just because you bit them.”


	6. Chapter 6

  What Yuta said that day seems to be a hallucination that Taeyong had, because he returned to his usual bubbly self with nothing bothering him. Weeks pass easily and still Yuta shows no sign of wanting to talk about it again, so Taeyong lets it go.

  Taeyong tries to appeal to Yuta by watching anime with him, but Yuta never watches with subtitles, so Taeyong doesn’t know what is happening half of the time. He sits there frowning mostly, and sometimes when Yuta accidentally looks over at him, he quickly schools his expression into a neutral one. He doesn’t see Yuta laughing to himself.

  Yuta stands up like he has forgotten something, leaving Taeyong staring at the screen in confusion. When he comes back from going through his drawer, Yuta hands him a blister pack with white tablets in it, and for a moment Taeyong looks at him, puzzled. “Those are my antacids,” Yuta says, settling back into his original position, “I’ve had a bad stomach for as long as I can remember. Sometimes I forget to bring them.”

  Taeyong turns over the pack thoughtfully. _Does he mean he’s letting me go out with him now?_ He steals a glance at Yuta, faithfully absorbed in the anime. He decides it doesn’t hurt to try, and he pauses the episode. “Do you want to get dinner outside, tomorrow?” he asks, hoping Yuta won’t kill him. “We can go… anywhere you like.”

  To his surprise, Yuta answers him unfazed. “It’s your call,” he says, turning back to the computer. Taeyong is a little shocked at how Yuta responds. He studies his side profile, wondering if he really is indifferent or is just pretending to be.

  “Right,” he says, deciding that it doesn’t matter. He eyes Yuta a bit anxiously, and puts an arm around him casually. Yuta looks at him upon the contact, and Taeyong stands his ground as if he’s not afraid Yuta won’t like it.

  Yuta snorts and leans back into him, and for a while, Taeyong is the tensest he has been lately, scared that one wrong movement will send Yuta bolting. “Hey,” Yuta says with the ghost of a laugh in his voice, looking around at him. “You can breathe, you know.”

 “Uh- oh, yeah,” Taeyong says, embarrassed. “I just- ”

  Yuta adjusts the screen of his laptop and Taeyong sees his concentrated face reflected on it. _You’re why I’m strung so tight_ , he thinks, but Yuta probably knows already. He rests his head in the crook of Taeyong’s shoulder, but it seemed to be a gesture of comfort for Taeyong instead of himself. Something along the lines of _it’s fine, I don’t really hate you_ , but Taeyong doesn’t know how true it is.

 Yuta’s hair is soft and it tickles his neck. He smells like citrus, Taeyong notices for the first time, fresh and crisp like he is. Taeyong doesn’t know why, but his heart expands in his chest and he trembles with excitement at the thought of buying him a grapefruit shower gel that matches his scent.

  “What are you doing?” Yuta asks, pausing the episode again, “Why- what? Why are you so excited?”

  Taeyong suppresses his grin. “Nothing. Just thought of something stupid.” Yuta gives him a withering look, and takes out both Taeyong and his earbuds and closes his laptop.

  “I'm not watching this anymore,” he says, pushing it aside. “I can’t focus because you’re always moving.”

  “Sorry,” Taeyong says, trying to make Yuta comfortable. He holds out his arms, letting Yuta find a more agreeable position. Taeyong feels a bit disappointed that Yuta is too careful, his touches too light when he is around him. He can’t blame him, though. If he were in Yuta’s position, he’d keep himself at at least a three-meter radius.

  But there _is_ a reason why he had claimed Yuta. He is pretty, he smells good, he is bubbly and energetic, and inebriated Taeyong probably fell head over heels for that. Truthfully, he likes Yuta a bit too much for how long they’ve known each other, but it might be because he’s his mate.

  Taeyong hums in contentment, making Yuta laugh. “What,” he says, “are you really thinking about?”

  They aren’t doing anything important, or even anything at all, and they are so close to just cuddling on the couch Taeyong can’t help but feel self-satisfied. “Nothing,” he replies.

  “What’s so funny?” Yuta asks with a confused expression. “Do I have something on my face?”

  “Yeah,” Taeyong says, raising a brow. “Beauty.”

  “No.”

  Yuta scowls at him, his expression disturbed. He looks away from Taeyong, and Taeyong laughs. “Don’t ignore me,” he says, pinching the bridge of Yuta’s nose. Yuta jumps in shock, and Taeyong _melts_ at the little surprised noise he makes.

  Taeyong takes the chance to pull Yuta closer and bury his face in his neck. Yuta stiffens, but Taeyong can’t help himself. “You smell nice,” he says, “Like, really nice.”

  Yuta relaxes a little, cocking his head to the side for a bit. Taeyong presses his nose into the soft skin of his neck and takes a deep breath. Yuta is _his_ , he finds himself thinking, a growl rising in his chest when his teeth graze over the mark on the back of his neck. His arms tighten around Yuta and he pulls him roughly into his lap. “Tae-Taeyong,” Yuta stutters, and only then does he realize he has been releasing too much of his pheromones.

  “Sorry,” he says, sitting up properly, “I- You smell good.”

  Yuta looks bewildered by his sudden show of dominance, but he didn’t push him away, and Taeyong prays that he won’t hit him upside the head. Taeyong scratches his head in embarrassment, not knowing what’s come over him. “Really,” Yuta says, his tone flat.

  “Really.”

  Yuta gulps when he sees that Taeyong is serious. “Wh- what should I do about it?” he asks nervously, and Taeyong shifts his legs under him, making him shiver.

  “What?” Taeyong asks, looking at him worriedly. “Was that… too much? I’m sorry.”

  “No, I- ” Yuta shakes his head, a part of him relieved, and the other part… a little let down. He’d thought Taeyong expected something of him. “Nevermind.”

  “What do you mean?” Taeyong puts a hand on the small of his back, and all his senses travel there.

  He has no idea what it means. “Are you sure you… don’t want,” Yuta pauses and swallows around the lump in his throat, his cheeks flaming. “Sex?”

  Taeyong stops, then babbles, flustered. “Yuta, I had no idea I made you feel that way, I- I really am not trying to hint at anything. Dear lord, I swear-”

  Taeyong’s voice softened as if he is ashamed of what he is saying. “I just wanted to hold you. Really.” He grimaces. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, I can-”

  Yuta grabs Taeyong’s retreating hands and puts them back in place. “Thank you,” he suddenly says, winding his arms around Taeyong’s torso. He buries his face in Taeyong’s chest. He wants to tell him, _You smell good too, like cedar and things that are warm and comforting, but don’t take it too seriously, maybe I’m just attracted to it because you’re my mate_ , but the words don’t make it out of his mouth.

  It is the first time Taeyong sees Yuta cry and he kind of freaks out. He feels guilty instantly, regardless of the fact he does not know what is wrong. “Hey, Yuta,” he says, pulling out tissues for him. “Are you alright?” He touches his hair gently, patting his head.

  “You really don’t want to do it?” Yuta asks, his voice thick with mucus.

  “No, Yuta, I just-”

  “Alright,” he says, “I was just making sure.” Yuta’s body trembles with the effort to hold in his tears.

  “Yuta,” Taeyong says, not really knowing what he can do except pat his back. “I don’t know if that’s what’s on your mind, but I hope you don't think that you need to satisfy my every need just because I claimed you.”

  Yuta is silent for a moment. “Taeyong,” he says, “I’m glad you’re a good person.” He sniffs, his tears soaking through Taeyong’s shirt. “Because I don’t know what I’d do if-” Yuta ends his sentence with a whine, and Taeyong hugs him tightly.

  “It’s okay,” he tells him, “It’s okay. I promise I’ll be good to you.”

  “I really, really don’t want to build a relationship on an agreement, no matter what it is,” Yuta says, his eyes red and swollen, and Taeyong’s chest hurts for a simple reason that he can feel his anguish through their bond. “I don’t want to be like my parents. But- but we already started wrong.”

  Taeyong offers him a tissue but Yuta wipes his tears with the back of his hands. Taeyong grabs him by his wrists and dabs the tissue paper around his eyes, making hushing noises. “It’s alright, Yuta,” he says, “I won’t force you into anything.”

  Yuta looks at him plaintively, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m sorry,” he adds, “But I hope we can work this out, okay?”

-

  Since that time, Yuta seemed to feel there is no use in holding back anymore. Taeyong had seen him at his worst already.

  His tear ducts work themselves whenever Taeyong is around, and he can’t stop crying over little things. He knows that he has been suppressing his emotions around people for as long as he can remember, but Taeyong’s appearance seemed to break that wall he has around himself.

   _It’s fine_ , he tells himself, _he’s not going to be disappointed in you, he never had any expectations anyways_. Still, he feels guilty for letting Taeyong see this side of him, because he shouldn’t be bothered to comfort him.

  “I want to,” Taeyong says whenever Yuta tells him to do something more worthwhile than sitting beside him while he cries his eyes out, but Yuta is never convinced.

  “You don’t,” he tells him. “Leave me alone.” The small voice at the back of his mind begs for Taeyong to hold him and knead him into his body, but he doesn’t let it win. Yuta watches Taeyong keep a respectable distance between them like he had asked him to, but worrying like a mother hen. But he never has the courage to ask for a favour even though Taeyong offers it himself. It is in his blood to reject affection, because he should be the one who should give it to other people. Yuta _knows_ the way he thinks is wrong, but it’s been so long, and he is too accustomed to it already.

  Sometimes Taeyong looks hurt when he shies away from him when he wants to run a hand through his hair in comfort. “Sorry,” he mutters, pursing his lips. Yuta feels guilty for making Taeyong tiptoe around him, but he doesn’t know how to change, and he doesn’t want to change.

-

  Nothing changes the fact that they do not know each other very well, and Yuta realizes it for the millionth time when Taeyong takes him to a simple Korean restaurant down the street.

  Taeyong waves Jaehyun who is having his break over and he narrows his eyes in interest when he sees Yuta. “Hi,” he says to Yuta, not even bothering to greet Taeyong, and he slides into the seat next to Taeyong.

  Yuta shakes his hand timidly, and Taeyong never knew Yuta is this shy with strangers. It makes him feel a little complacent when Yuta keeps his hands folded in his lap, sitting upright and looking at Taeyong with wide eyes, pleading for him to talk.

  “You’re creeping him out,” Taeyong says, making a dismissing gesture so Jaehyun stops leaning towards Yuta. Jaehyun smiles and scratches his head in embarrassment. “This is Jaehyun,” he turns to Yuta, “He’s… sometimes a bit too keen.”

  Yuta bites his lips and nods. “I’m Yuta,” he tells the boy across from him, and Jaehyun laughs.

  “I know,” he says, “I’ve heard all about you. From Taeyong, that is.”

  “O-oh,” Yuta breathes out, “Why are you telling everyone?”

  Jaehyun nudges Taeyong playfully, and suddenly Taeyong can’t find an answer to his question. “You _are_ pretty,” Jaehyun says, “He’s not exaggerating. But he has a tendency to do that.” Yuta blushes at his compliment, and Jaehyun laughs at him. “No wonder he likes you,” he says to rile Taeyong up, “I’d take you out too.” Yuta’s eyes dart to and fro Jaehyun and Taeyong in a panic.

  “Shut up, Jaehyun,” Taeyong says, “Do you have nothing better to do?”

  Jaehyun actively ignores Taeyong. “You know, he didn’t even bother spending his birthday with us because he was with you.” Taeyong sees Yuta’s mouth fall open a bit and he regains his composure, smiling awkwardly. “He’s a nice guy, Yuta, but sometimes he’s stupid.”

  “Get out,” Taeyong says, not knowing what else to do. It feels weird to have both Jaehyun and Yuta here at the same time, like the circles in his life that he always thought would be separate are now overlapping. “Your manager is going to hate you.”

  “Alright, stop being so possessive,” Jaehyun mutters, “See you around, beautiful.” Jaehyun winks at Yuta and Yuta is a little taken aback because Taeyong is _right there_. He looks over at Taeyong sheepishly, but he doesn’t look angry. Yuta wonders if Taeyong cares.

  Taeyong watches in amusement as Jaehyun narrowly avoids tripping over his own feet. “I've known Jaehyun since we were kids,” he tells Yuta, “We used to live on the same floor.” Yuta nods, visibly more relaxed now that he is gone.

  “I thought you were good with people,” Taeyong says, and Yuta purses his lips.

  “I’m not. I don’t have friends,” Yuta tells him, “...Not really.”

  Taeyong cocks his head thoughtfully. “But everyone likes you.”

  “I think I don’t really know how to maintain a relationship with someone,” Yuta says, “I am only close with Ten because our families are similar. Other people… they are too hard for me to understand.”

  “You’re… you’re different,” Yuta says quickly, not even waiting until Taeyong asks. “We skipped some steps, obviously. I don’t really know how to treat you so- this is it, I guess. It’s better for it to be like this, I can’t pretend to be- something I’m not- forever.”

  “And… Jaehyun is… your friend.” He says it with an air of finality that makes Taeyong confused.

  “Does that make you uncomfortable?” Taeyong asks, and Yuta starts to play with his fingers.

  “I don’t know him at all. I don’t know what he expects me to be like. I- don’t know how to please him.”

  “Why do you need to please him?”

  Yuta looks at him as though he grew a pair of horns. “What do you mean?” he says incredulously, “He’s _your_ _friend_.”

  “And?” Taeyong presses, “Why does that matter?”

  “And I’m scared your friends won’t like me.”

  Taeyong marvels at how Yuta chews on his bottom lip nervously. “You’re not obliged to satisfy everyone around me just because I’m your mate,” he says, looking straight through Yuta, “It’s okay. Just be yourself.”

  “I can’t.” Yuta shakes his head. “I can’t disappoint people. Besides, I’d be disappointing you if they don’t like me.”

  “Stop being so hung up on if they like you or not,” Taeyong tells him, “I like you, it’s fine.”

  Yuta opens his mouth to speak, but he swallows his words. He looks out of the glass window, ending their conversation. Taeyong wonders if Yuta’s upbringing caused him to think this way. _It’s not your responsibility to humour other people_ , he wants to tell him, but Yuta’s expression makes him think it’s better to stay silent.

  Only at these times does he realize he doesn’t know anything about Yuta. Truthfully, he wants Yuta to tell him, but he also does not want to push him. He’ll have to admit that it was a mistake he marked Yuta, but the best he can do is try to tell Yuta through his actions that he really, really does not see him as something he regrets.

  He knows for a fact that Yuta is both reserved in approaching him and also afraid of him suddenly leaving, but he can’t really do anything except for trying to coax him out of his comfort zone. It is a bit of a hard task while maintaining distance and Taeyong is scared of how Yuta will react if he steps over the line. _I do care about him_ , he tells himself, _which is the most important thing. At least I’m not… leaving anytime soon_.

  Taeyong picks up his chopsticks and starts to pile food into Yuta’s bowl. “Let’s eat before this cools down.”

  “I’m sorry,” Yuta starts, making Taeyong knit his brows in confusion. “I don’t… When is your birthday?”

  “July 1st,” Taeyong answers easily.

  Yuta glances at him apologetically, but Taeyong doesn’t seem to mind. “I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay, it’s not that important.”

  “My birthday is on October 26th,” Yuta says, “Just… in case you want to know.”

  “I know already,” Taeyong tells him, smiling lightly.

  “What? How?”

  “I saw it when you showed me your ID,” Taeyong chuckles at his expression. “I mean, Yuta, be careful with your personal information.” Taeyong smiles a little too fondly for Yuta to look at, so he busies himself with his utensils.

  “Hey, don’t beat yourself up over something so stupid.” Taeyong is still staring at him, and Yuta isn’t supposed to find it weird. However it just makes him feel bummed that he could have done something for Taeyong.

-

  However weak Yuta feels in front of Taeyong, Taeyong thinks Yuta is tough. Yuta focuses on the number of times he breaks down when Taeyong is here, but Taeyong only remembers how Yuta shoots him down with his sarcastic comments.

  “You’re not a complete idiot,” Yuta says when Taeyong accidentally spills soda over himself. “Some parts are missing.”

  When Yuta is on the phone with Ten, he goes all out. “Everyone has the right to be stupid at some time,” he hears Yuta say one time, “But you’re abusing that privilege.” Taeyong laughs out loud and Yuta turns around in surprise, relaxing when he sees that it’s just him.

  Yuta has a potty mouth, but he always steal glances at Taeyong after he makes a snarky remark, and Taeyong finds that endearing. Yuta is carefree, but at the same time also burdened with thoughts. Taeyong can’t really make sense of Yuta, but he doesn’t think it’s a problem. Yuta can tell Taeyong otherwise for infinite times, but he will still think Yuta is the most attractive person he has ever met.

  Yuta bites his lip whenever he is deep in thought, and Taeyong can watch him for hours and still be interested. On days he needs to work at his and Johnny’s office he leaves a note for Yuta to remind him to eat and sleep well, and he hopes Yuta won’t find it too annoying. He fusses over Yuta like a mom, but Yuta doesn’t really seem to care for it. _He’s been living alone for… years?_ Taeyong tells himself, _He doesn’t need me_.

  “I don’t care for appearing strong and shit,” Yuta says, when he thinks he’s not acting manly enough, but Taeyong might understand that more than Yuta himself. Taeyong just agrees with him and he bounces off satisfied.

  “I’m going out with Ten later,“ Yuta yells from the couch. Taeyong makes a non-committal grunt in reply, and continues to type on his laptop.

  Yuta crosses the room sits down across from him. “I need advice,” he says, grim. Taeyong gulps and prepares for the worst.

  “What is it?”

  “What colour should I dye my hair?” Yuta asks, sincerely concerned.

  Taeyong tries his best to stifle a laugh. “I was expecting something more serious,” he says.

  “This _is_ serious,” Yuta frowns, “I’ve never dyed my hair unlike your gray ass head.”

  “Maybe you can consider pink,” Taeyong says, “It might suit you a little too well.”

  “I hope all of your hair falls out one day.” Yuta pushes back his chair and stands up. “I knew I shouldn’t have asked you.”

  In the end Yuta goes for a honey brown and when Taeyong opens the door Yuta shies back a little, a bit too conscious of how he would react.

  “Well isn’t it- “ Taeyong jaw drops and he looks _delighted_ , so much Yuta preens under his stare. “Don’t you look lovely.”

  Despite everything, Yuta clings onto his non-existent mountain man image. “I’m not lovely. I’m a manly man,” he says gruffly.

  “Yes, you are,” Taeyong agrees, but his tone says otherwise. He can only formulate one thought when it comes to Yuta, and it’s getting more and more out of hand. _At this rate, Yuta can totally break my heart_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer since I haven't updated in a while :33  
> Finals are coming up next week and I've been a lazy ass TAT  
> I guess there won't be new chapters for the next to two weeks so I'll see y'all again after my exams  
> Thanks for reading!!


	7. Chapter 7

  It is two months later and right after the school term starts when his heat makes its happy way around the corner, and Yuta can’t help but think three-month cycles are too frequent to be any good.

  He’s gotten used to Taeyong being around every other night or so to have dinner together, but having Taeyong stay around for his heat was another thing. Thankfully Taeyong doesn’t say anything about it and saves Yuta the embarrassment of having to answer any R-rated questions.

  By the end of his heat, it doesn’t matter how much he’s warmed up to Taeyong in the last months, all he wanted to do is get the hell out of his sight.

  He has never realized how weird his sleeping postures are until he wakes up sprawled all over Taeyong or sticking to his side with hands thrown above his head. Taeyong seems to find it funny and pokes fun at him for it, which he does not appreciate for the sole reason it reminds him of why Taeyong gets to see it.

  They shower separately and Yuta takes that time to compose himself. _It’s fine, he helps_ , he thinks, _I shouldn’t care so much_. Taeyong, on the other hand, at least appears nonchalant, and he asks Yuta what he wants for lunch like nothing’s out of the ordinary.

   _Maybe it really is nothing out of the ordinary_ , he thinks, _this is what mated couples do, isn’t it?_ He shakes his head to push the thought to the back of his mind.

  Taeyong cooks him the first proper meal he’s had in days and he scarfs it down with vigour. “Hey,” Taeyong says, grinning, “Take it easy. Nothing’s going to happen if you eat slowly.”

  Yuta gives him a plaintive look with his mouth full and Taeyong averts his eyes. “You might get a stomach ache if it goes down too quickly,” he tells him.

  Yuta swallows and shoves another spoonful of rice into his mouth. “It’s going to be fine,” he says around it, voice muffled.

  Apparently, it is not fine, since Yuta has to take his meds for cramps an hour later. “I have a sensitive digestive system,” Yuta says, curling up on himself. “There’s no need to worry.”

  Taeyong cannot wrap his head around Yuta’s logic. “Isn’t that exactly why we should we worrying?” he asks, forcing Yuta to drink the lukewarm water.

  Yuta blenches in disgust at the temperature. “No,” he says, pushing it away.

  “Finish this,” Taeyong orders, “Then I will stop pestering you.” Yuta makes a face, but drinks it anyway. He shoves the cup back into Taeyong’s hands and sticks out his tongue.

  “Leave me alone now,” he tells him. Taeyong takes it back to the kitchen and Yuta hears the running of water. He can live with somebody cooking and cleaning up after him, he thinks, and reprimands himself for it with a laugh.

-

  In the evening he makes Taeyong take him out for ice cream even though Taeyong thinks he shouldn’t eat anything cold. After a few attempts at talking reason into Yuta Taeyong gives up and they head out.

  “Shit,” Taeyong says, “I forgot to bring my phone.”

  Yuta hands him his. “1026,” he says.

  “You’re just going to tell me your password like that,” Taeyong says. It is a little uncharacteristic of Yuta who is usually cautious about telling Taeyong anything.

  “Well, are you going to something bad?”

  “...No, but- ”

  “Exactly. I have no nudes in there you can’t blackmail me.”

  Taeyong calls Jaehyun using Yuta’s phone and tells him he will join them for dinner since Yuta doesn’t want to eat with him. “I never said ‘I don’t want to eat with you’,” Yuta complains, “I promised Ten ages ago!”

  Taeyong doesn’t pay attention to his whines and continues to speak into the phone. Yuta gets lost in his own world, licking away at his ice cream cone. Taeyong watches his eyes dart to and fro the arcade. When he ends his call he asks Yuta, “Want to go for a round?”

  Yuta starts, and shakes his head. “Was that Jaehyun?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Just going to save his number,” Yuta mutters.

  “You’re finally going to?” Taeyong laughs.

  “Yeah I realized he wasn’t trying to hit on me,” Yuta says, “Why does he flirt with everything that moves?”

  “He’s like that,” Taeyong says, “But you’re my…mate.” Yuta’s heart stops when Taeyong chooses the word, and he’s glad Taeyong didn’t leave it open for him to fill in. Because he can’t. He decides ‘mate’ is fine, nothing more, nothing less.

  “Come on,” Taeyong says, “Let’s go.”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  “I want to,” he tells Yuta, pulling him by his arm.

  Taeyong learns Yuta will never say ‘yes’ to anything unless he insists. He watches him concentrate on the video game, his fingers moving expertly over the controls. _Maybe it’s a bad move_ , he thinks, when Yuta leans closer and closer to the screen.

-

  “I’ll come to yours in the afternoon after work,” Taeyong says, “Did you decide what you want yet?”

  “I don’t need shit,” Yuta tells him. “This isn’t even that important.”

  Yuta doesn’t know why Taeyong is adamant about celebrating his birthday, which, for the record, he has never celebrated. Taeyong keeps on bothering him until he relents. “Okay,” he tells him, “Just come over. But I refuse to go out of my apartment for one second.”

  Yuta frowns when he looks himself in the mirror. _I’m trying to look good for him_ , he thinks, _I can’t believe it_. Well, at least he is brushing his hair and parting it properly even though he knows he is going to spend the whole day at home.

  The doorbell rings and Yuta leaps up from the couch. _So early today?_ He thinks, opening the door. He is about to scare him with a loud greeting when-

  “Happy birthday, Yuta,” the man says, his voice deep and steady. Yuta gapes at him, stopping his lurch forward.

  “Oh…Hi,” Yuta says, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “It’s been a while.”

  “Were you expecting someone else?” Like always, he sees through him.

  Yuta nods, he knows anyway. “Come in.” He opens the door wide.

  The man chuckles, ruffling Yuta’s hair. “You look good,” he tells him, “I thought I won’t be able to find you home today since you might go out with your friends.”

  “You know I don’t have a lot of friends,” Yuta says, feeling like a kid.

  The man’s laughter rumbles in his chest and he opens his arms. Yuta hugs him and huddles up to him, the happiest he has been in days, or maybe even weeks. “How are you? I missed you, I haven’t seen you in months.”

  Yuta bounces on his tiptoes happily, and stops when he comes to a sudden realization. _Shit_ , he thinks, _Taeyong_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys I'm back from hell  
> Sorry for an uneventful update my brain is burnt out TAT  
> Also i literally *just* watched [N'-40] NCT VLOG #4 Lovely Night and Yuta and Taeil can’t live without touching WinWin period


	8. Chapter 8

 “I’ll get you something to drink,” Yuta says, “Make yourself comfortable, papa.”

 “Yuta,” He pauses, “Am I imagining things?”

 “Huh?” Yuta turns around abruptly. “What are you talking about?”

 “You...You smell different,” he says, and Yuta stiffens.

 Yuta opens his mouth but no sound comes out. His father fixes him with a stare and his mouth is dry. “Yuta...you smell like somebody else,” he says, and they both know where he is going. “Did you... mate with someone?”

 What should he say? Is his dad going to be mad at him? But he can’t deny it, it is clear as day. Yuta bites his lip guiltily, not able to look him in the eyes.

 “I did,” he says, his voice barely audible. He tries to smile but it probably looks more like a grimace. “I’m sorry.”

 His father is silent, and Yuta can only pray that he doesn’t get angry. Yuta wrings his hands, waiting for his father to say something. _There’s no good in lying_ , he thinks, _They’ll find out sooner or later_.

 “Who is it?” He finally speaks, his voice stern and hard, but it is calm.

 “But-but you don’t know him,” Yuta stutters.

 “What is his name?”

 “Taeyong, he’s Taeyong,” Yuta tells him, “Lee Taeyong.”

 “How long has this been?”

 “F-four months,” Yuta answers. He can feel his father staring at him in disbelief, and it scares him.

 “Yuta,” he starts, and it reduces Yuta to a nervous wreck. _Don’t be disappointed_ , he thinks, _Please, please don’t make me go back home_.

 “Have you thought this through, Yuta?” He asks, and Yuta’s heart drops like a stone.

  _I can’t let him know. I can’t_. “Yes, I- I- ” he stutters, and swallows around the lump in his throat. “I know what I’m doing.”

 His father sighs. “Make me some tea, Yuta,” he says, “Then let’s talk.”

 Yuta scurries to the kitchen and almost cries out loud when he makes sure he is out of his father’s sight. _What is he going to think?_ He broods on the possibilities, and almost forgets about his task. When he finally does carry a steaming cup of tea outside, his father is at the table, and he takes the seat across from him.

 “I had to attend a conference here in Korea, and I stopped by,” His father explains, “It’s your birthday.”

 “Thanks,” Yuta says timidly.

 “Is this why you haven’t been contacting us? You were afraid we’d know?”

 “I’m sorry, papa,” he says, “I- I didn’t know how you would like it.”

 “I don’t know what your grandfather is going to say, Yuta.” Yuta gulps at the prospect of his grandfather being notified of this predicament. He has always been a traditional, strict head of the household, and he valued discipline above anything else. This… is obviously something that guaranteed a negative reaction.

 “Does your mother know?”

 Yuta shakes his head.

 “When were you going to tell us, Yuta?”

 Yuta can’t answer him, and his father takes a sip of the tea before talking again. “Yuta, I know, we haven’t been the best parents,” he says, “But I am worried about you. I don’t even know who your mate is. Don’t be sorry for this- being with someone you love, but be sorry for not telling us. We were worried. I was worried, but I didn’t want to pressure you into reporting everything to us.”

  _I don’t really know him either_ , Yuta thinks desperately. “He’s coming home soon,” Yuta offers, sensing that his father at least wants to see him. Taeyong is going to be surprised but… he can’t let his father down. _We don’t even live together_ , he thinks, _What if Taeyong accidentally blows my cover?_

 “You know I _never_ marked your mother.”

 Yuta’s mouth falls open. “What?” _Why is he telling me this now? Then… that is why my mother can leave him so easily. But I..._

 He eyes Yuta’s shocked expression and turns back to his cup, tilting it. “We don’t love each other,” he says, “You know that.” His father’s eyes show no emotion whatsoever. “I wish you’d make this choice sensibly.”

 “I hope you’re happy,” he says, “That’s all I ask for.”

 “What about…” Yuta speaks up nervously, licking his lips. “What about the- the thing?”

 “What thing?”

 “You know what I’m saying, dad,” Yuta says, “Are you going to call it off?”

 “...Do we have the choice?”

 “I’m sorry, I- I really am, but-” Yuta takes a deep breath, “I think I want to stay with Taeyong.” He feels bad for lying, but he’s doing everything he can to cover up the fact that he and Taeyong are  _not_ together or anything. Yuta doesn’t know what his father would do.

 “It’s only natural for you to want that, isn’t it?” His dad sighs. “I- I don’t know, give me some time as well, Yuta. This is all so sudden I can’t really-”

 He stops abruptly in the middle of his sentence. “Is...Taeyong,” he starts slowly, as if tasting the name in his mouth. “Is he good to you?”

 Yuta purses his lips. “Yes, he is,” he answers a little unnaturally. “I mean, otherwise- I wouldn’t-”

 “Okay, I get it,” his father says. “I was just… worried.”

 “Papa,” Yuta says, “I, well, I think you’ll like him. I mean, I hope so. I’m sorry for not telling you this earlier, but I was scared you’d be upset and I...” He trails off, not knowing how he is going to continue bluffing.

 “For one,” he says, “I want you to know I value your happiness first.” His father jaw is set, and he looks serious and grave, but Yuta doesn’t find himself intimidated. “I don’t want you to think I’m holding you back or anything of the sort. I know the family is,” He clicks his tongue, “Our family is quite a lot to handle, but- I want you to remember we are your family. Even though you might think we will react negatively… Yuta, we _want_ to know.

 “It’s been so long since I last saw you and I know we promised you to let you do whatever you want here, I am worried. I _am_ your father. Your mom rang me up the other day asking if you contacted me because she hasn’t heard from you for ages.

 “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this but she has been avoiding us since she we got the divorce, since we remind her of her family. And you know she hates that, right? I- You know your mother is a free spirit, right?”

 Yuta takes the chance to ask a question he’s been holding back for a long time. “Papa, I’m sorry for asking this, and- I’m sorry for not being able to phrase this properly, but… does mama not like you?” Yuta bites his cheek, nervous.

 His dad raises his eyebrows at the question. “To be honest, Yuta,” he starts, “I don’t know. I like to think not. And I don’t think she does, given that she understands our situation. I wasn’t the one forcing her to marry me. To some extent, I have the right to dislike her too. But…” He drinks from his cup while thinking of how to say it to his son “She is lovely, you know. And I don’t love her either, but she is lovely. She is free and bubbly and always happy, and I was quite the opposite. Life with me wears her out, I can tell that. Or rather, life with my family around. I’m glad we both decided that it was time to part ways.” He realizes he had been wandering off topic, and he coughs.

 Yuta purses his lips. His father had always been nice to him, treating him way better than his childhood friends’ fathers were to their sons. He guessed that is the way wealthy families worked, even if it does sound stereotypical. To think of it now, Yuta knows why his father had always indulged in him secretly, even though it wasn’t the way their family had wanted him to raise him. He wasn’t demanding, and he used to sneak him candy under his grandparents’ nose, he brought him to his football practices and sat through it. All because _he is his mother’s son_.

 Maybe his father had felt bad for his mother, having to be with someone she didn’t like, a family she isn’t comfortable with, and she had to give him a child. Maybe his father wanted him to be with someone who would love him, and have what his mother couldn’t. And maybe all of that is ruined already.

 “Yuta, listen,” his father says, “All I want is for you to be happy, okay?”

 Yuta nods, biting back his tears. _What would he think if he knows about us? He’d be devastated, wouldn’t he?_ “Okay,” he says, “Yeah, okay.”

 “Tell us next time. When something big like this happens.”

 “I will. I swear.”

 His father gulps down the rest of his tea and pushes him the cup. “Be a good host, will you?” he asks, and Yuta picks it up to bring to the kitchen. “I assume you’ll be having dinner with him? Then I’m not staying for too long since it’ll be awkward.”

 “You can stay, papa. What are you talking about?”

 He shakes his head, smiling. “You know it will be.”

-

 Though he promises Yuta not so scare Taeyong, he only barely keeps his word. Taeyong arrives in the evening his father scowls at the sound of the doorbell ringing.

 Taeyong, however, is oblivious. “Hey,” he says, and he sees Yuta panicking while opening the door. “What’s wrong?”

 “Taeyong,” he whispers, voice bordering on a whimper, “My dad is here.”

 “ _What?_ ” he whispers back.

 Yuta leans closer to him, hands cupping his face. “Pretend we are close,” he pleads, “Just for now. _Please_.”

 Yuta kisses him on the cheek, because his father is probably thinking they’re plotting something. Taeyong freezes, his face turning red. “Hey,” Yuta says, hitting him on his arm. “He’s watching.”

  _Exactly!_ Taeyong thinks, looking over Yuta’s shoulder to see a middle-aged man staring disapprovingly at him. He gulps. Taeyong’s carrying his suit jacket and briefcase in one hand, the other holding a box that has to be a cake. He sets it all down on the table and Yuta’s father watches him, his expression unreadable.

 “Hello, sir,” he greets Yuta’s father with his limited Japanese, bowing. He can’t explain how terrified he is at the moment, and Yuta holding onto his arm is both helping and not.

 “Hello,” Yuta’s father responds in Korean, which is scary albeit the tones being a bit off.  “I have _not_ heard about you… Taeyong.”

 Taeyong’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise at how he starts the conversation. Yuta’s father must take it as he doesn’t know Yuta never talked to them about him. “Yes, he has never told us about you.” Yuta grimaces at his tone.

 Yuta’s hands are on his shoulder and he ushers him to the seat across from his father. “Sit down,” he says, and Taeyong can’t help but be reminded this is the gentlest Yuta’s been to him despite he’s only pretending. “Papa, he isn’t a bad person.”

 “Yuta, can Taeyong and I talk for a bit?”

 “Okay...sure,” He glances at Taeyong who looks equally terrified. _Please_ , he begs, _Say something he wants to hear_. But Yuta doesn’t know what it is either. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

-

 Yuta rolls around on his bed restlessly while they talk outside. He doesn’t know if he wants to know what they are talking about. When Taeyong finally comes to get him he doesn’t look disheveled, which is a good sign.

 “What did he say to you?”

 “Later, Yuta,” Taeyong ushers him out of the room. “He said he’s leaving.”

 Yuta purses his lips when they are at the door. He glances back to see Taeyong a step behind him. He doesn’t know if he should ask this in front of Taeyong, but then it shouldn’t matter. “Hey, papa,” Yuta taps his shoulder, “Where is mama now?”

 His father stops in his tracks. “She’s travelling,” he says, “I’m not sure where exactly, but… she’s travelling, and she couldn’t do that when she was with us. So I guess she’s everywhere.” He laughs awkwardly, not able to give an exact answer.

 His father leaves him with a very quiet Taeyong. When he closes the front door Taeyong turns back and tidies his things as if he doesn’t want to talk to Yuta.

 “What did he say to you?” he asks again.

 Taeyong gives him a blank look, and both of them stare at each other without speaking. Yuta does his best to swallow while making the smallest movement.

 “Yuta,” he starts, a little upset but mostly guilty. “You’re engaged?”

 Yuta averts his eyes immediately, and Taeyong needs no further confirmation.

 “It’ll be off soon.”

 “Okay, so I kind off just snatched you away from your fiancé,” Taeyong says, “Wow. I- I didn’t know I was such an asshole.”

 “It’s an omiai thing, Taeyong,” Yuta says, “It’s nothing serious.”

 “Still-”

 “It’s _stupid_ , Taeyong.”

 “But Yuta!”

 “ _Taeyong_ ,” Yuta spits out. “Let’s not talk about that anymore.”

 Taeyong looks shocked at his sudden hostility, and Yuta looks down guiltily. “The icing is going to melt, isn’t it?” he asks quietly, and it snaps Taeyong from his trance.

 “Oh- right.” He had totally forgotten about the cake on the table, He pulls it out from the box and thankfully it hasn’t melted.

 “I’m sorry for dampening the mood,” Taeyong says. “I mean, happy birthday.”

 “ _Taeyong, it’s not your fault_.”

 “Happy birthday,” he says firmly, leaving no room to compromise.

 Yuta gives him a look but he doesn’t budge. “Alright,”  he breathes, giving up. He watches Taeyong light up a few candles and rush to turn off the lights. He stares at the flickering flames, conflicted, but Taeyong gives him no time to dwell on his thoughts.

 “Make a wish,” he says, smiling at him.

 Yuta almost frowns. “Don’t make that face,” Taeyong says, “It’s your birthday. You deserve to be happy.”

 “Make a wish,” Taeyong says, reaching to push Yuta’s bangs out of his eyes, making Yuta jump. _Too close. That’s too close_. However he doesn’t say it, and he laces his fingers together, closing his eyes.

 Taeyong waits for him until he opens his eyes and blows out the candles. Suddenly it’s all dark and Yuta’s eyes can’t adjust to the dimness immediately.

 “What did you wish for?” Taeyong asks, his figure hidden by the darkness. Yuta thinks Taeyong can’t see him as well, and he relaxes.

 “If I tell you it’s not going to come true, is it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omiai: a custom where people are introduced to each other with the prospect of marriage


	9. Chapter 9

  Something’s been troubling Taeyong lately, Yuta can tell, and he might even know what that something is. Taeyong still comes over to cook him dinner a few days a week, but doesn’t stay as long as he would, and he speaks much less compared to before. At this rate, Yuta will think Taeyong actually hates him.

  “How was your day?” Taeyong asks bluntly, an obvious attempt to strike a conversation he does not want to engage in.

  “Fine,” Yuta says curtly, looking down while he eats. He doesn’t give any details, because Taeyong doesn’t look like he wants to know.

  They fall into an awkward silence again, and Yuta swears he can hear Taeyong breathing. His chopsticks clink against the bowl, obnoxiously loud, and he looks up sheepishly. Taeyong is staring at him, and it makes him want to avert his eyes immediately, but that would be even weirder, so he holds his gaze. “What?”

  “Yuta,” he starts, cocking his head to the side, “Aren’t you upset?”

  “...What?” Yuta furrows his brows, taken aback by the question. “No, I’m not. I mean, why would I suddenly be- ”

  “That you have to be with me.” Taeyong looks too calm for the words that came out of his mouth. It is like he has said it a thousand times in his head already, and that thought scares Yuta. Maybe he’s practised this a lot. Maybe the next words he is going to say are going to be something like ‘I think you need to leave me’ or something else that sounds responsible and full of rejection at the same time.

  “What do you mean?” He asks, trying to lighten the mood. “Do I look really bummed or what?”

  “Yuta, I’m serious.” Taeyong’s strong facial features amplify his disgruntled expression, and Yuta thinks if one day Taeyong really did yell at him angrily he would run. “I have no idea how you put up with me.”

  “...Why do you think that way?”

  Taeyong puts down his bowl heavily. “You don’t know me, Yuta, and I marked you. Don’t you have anybody you should be going back to? Or even if you didn’t, what if you find someone you like more than me? What do you do then?”

  Taeyong watches Yuta mouth fall open slightly. Maybe he didn’t expect him to say those things out loud. ”I don’t how you can still accept me knowing that,” he continues anyway, “You’re...engaged, Yuta. I don’t know how serious you are about that but- what I’m doing is just _wrong_. I can’t look you in the eyes without thinking how it would be like if someone did that to me.”

  “Taeyong,” Yuta stops him, “I said, I only met him _twice_.”

  “It’s still something serious if you’re supposed to marry that person. I hope you’re not taking your engagement lightly. At this point it seems like I care more about it that you do.”

  “Well, you do!” Yuta says, tension rising, “Why are you so hung up on it when _I_ should be the one upset? I told you, it’s not serious! I do not know him any more than I know you, and this makes no difference!”

  “Yuta, I don’t want to tell you how important this should be to you,” he says, irritated. “I don’t understand why you’re so comfortable breaking off your promise like that, but I am certainly not comfortable with you engaged to somebody.”

  “And whose fault is that?” Yuta bites back. He doesn’t know if Taeyong means he is uncomfortable as in he doesn’t a mate belong to someone else or he is guilty that he marked him when he is supposed to marry another person. _Fuck it_ , he thinks, _Assume the worst_ , and automatically decides its the first.

  He didn’t expect it, but it takes the fight out of Taeyong. “...Yes,“ he says, hanging his head, “Mine.”

  This is suddenly the worst meal Taeyong has ever cooked, and Taeyong puts down his utensils. “I’m done,” he says, “Call me here to clean up when you’re done.” He pushes his chair back and leaves the table, sensing that their conversation can’t be rekindled anymore.

  Taeyong can’t seem to get comfortable on the couch. Ever since Yuta’s father spoke to him he can’t look at Yuta without remembering he is someone else’s omega. Maybe Yuta doesn’t think so, but technically, he is. He can still remember the exact tone when Yuta’s dad had said, “You’ve got to look out for him, he won’t tell you everything. He keeps his troubles from other people but he doesn’t know one day he can’t deal with it all by himself.”

  He doesn’t know what he can do, and he is constantly torn between sticking to Yuta’s side and letting him go on with his original life like nothing happened, not knowing which one is the right thing he should do to compensate for his for his impulsive decision. The worst thing is that Yuta shows no sign that he wants him to do any of the two, like it doesn’t matter to him. Taeyong doesn’t know if he’s reading Yuta wrong or Yuta simply did not give him any response.

-

  Yuta watches Taeyong disappear to the living room, just around the corner. He surveys the table, and realizes he can’t eat anymore as well.

  He doesn’t even know why he is crying. All he knows is he feels bad, and he can’t even tell if it’s guilt or something else. _Why should I feel guilty? For not being good enough?_ He thinks, _He was the one who marked me, for fuck’s sake. It’s not my problem if he doesn’t like me._ Still, the thought pricks his heart. _What if… he really regrets it? Am I supposed to do him a favour and leave?_

  Yuta swallows the mouthful of rice and reaches for a tissue, blowing his nose with the smallest sound he can make so Taeyong won’t notice. _I don’t like Taeyong_ , he thinks, _It’s his fault_. He wants to yell at Taeyong, perhaps say that _he_ should not be the one to feel guilty among the two of them because it’s all Taeyong’s fault, he doesn’t need Taeyong minding his business, and Taeyong has no right to judge him. However he recognizes the small possibility that Taeyong might be angry  _for_ him instead of _at_ him, and only that measly possibility holds him back from swinging the baseball bat in his room at Taeyong.

  But he won’t believe it unless he can’t deny it. At this point he cannot make sure what Taeyong feels about him, so he will ignore him.

  Yuta doesn’t know what his decision is based on, but he doesn’t want to get his own hopes up. _Taeyong hates me_ , he hits the final nail on the coffin. _All he is doing is only because otherwise, he will look like an asshole_.

-

  “Hey,” Ten greets him, “How is married life?”

  “...Fuck you,” Yuta grumbles.

  “They say marriage is the tomb of love, don’t they,” Ten says, sipping on this drink. “Is it true?”

  “I want to make two things clear to you,” Yuta says, accepting the chocolate milkshake Ten pushes over, but irritably, “First off Taeyong and I are not  _married_. Second, we never had any love to begin with.

  “And it is terrible.”

  “What is terrible?”

  “...That we didn’t have anything to begin with.” Yuta taps the table. “It makes me feel bad for no reason.”

  “I don’t think it's something trivial,” Ten tells him, “I mean… I don’t want to make you lose faith but that  _is_ a pretty big problem. So... it's probably understandable that you're upset about it.”

  “I know.” Yuta stirs the milkshake with his straw moodily.

  He has to admit he was getting comfortable with Taeyong, since getting to know him was no different from anyone else. Taeyong didn’t expect anything from him or treat him differently because he marked him, and he didn’t impose the title of his mate on him. Taeyong is becoming something of a friend. But they are no more than that emotionally, and it isn’t enough to sustain their weird relationship.

  “Do you still want to talk about it?” Ten asks, “You can tell me anything.”

  “I don’t know what I am doing, Ten,” Yuta says, “I think he thinks I hate him.”

  “Then show him you don’t!” Ten says as if it is the easiest thing in the whole world.

  “...How do I do that?”

  Ten looks taken aback by the question, his mouth falling open slightly. “Well?” Yuta asks.

  “Huh,” he says, “Well, I don’t know.”

  “I love your advice,” Yuta says, and Ten grins.

  “I don’t know! It works differently for everyone, doesn’t it?”

  Yuta decides his milkshake is more worthy of being paid attention to. _Maybe he’s right… I haven’t really been the most amiable person_. “I heard from Johnny that Taeyong didn’t know what to get for your birthday last week,” Ten says, “I told him to get you a Switch.”

  Yuta’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh,” he says, recovering, “That’s why.”

  “That’s why what?”

  “That’s why he got it for me,” Yuta mutters, “I was wondering how he knows I wanted it or if he just randomly picked something.”

  “If it makes you feel better, then just assume he found out himself.” Yuta takes a sidelong look at Ten’s grin. Ten is annoying, but Ten knows him.

  “Whatever,” he says, “If you round it down we know close to nothing about each other anyway. And he keeps on trying to watch anime now after I told him this exact same sentence. Speaking of anime, you know the Attack on Titan figurine collection I have? He saw it on my shelf and the next thing he asked was: So, do people die in this? There is literally one of a Titan biting a person in half. Is he dumb?”

  Ten laughs, and suddenly Yuta realizes he has been ranting like a prissy girl. He shuts his mouth consciously and drinks his milkshake, waiting for Ten to talk.

  “At least he’s trying,” Ten says, “You’re overlooking his efforts.”

  “So I’m the bad guy now.”

  “Maybe you are, I don’t know.” Ten cocks his head to one side. “Well, have you made any effort to know him better?”

  “No,” Yuta answers honestly. “I don’t want to.”

  “You said you wanted to, though.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “...What?”

  “He doesn’t like me.”

  “How do you know that?” Ten asks, “I mean, from what you said, I think he does. At least a little bit.”

  “Nah, he just doesn’t want to look like an asshole.” Yuta ignores Ten’s concerned look. “I’m trying to distance myself from him, okay? I don’t want him to think he _has_ to do all this shit.”

  “Maybe… he wants to?”

  “No.”

  “Yuta, why are you so sure?” Ten kicks his foot under the table. “Hey, listen, he might not think that way for all you know.”

  Ten raps his fingers on the table to get his attention. “I know you’re the one in this relationship, but I have to tell you that you might not want to jump to conclusions this quickly.” Yuta makes a face, but he knows what Ten said is true. He just doesn’t want to admit it. “What do you know about him?”

  “He’s obsessed with Febreze.”

  “Is that it?”

  “Pretty much.” As if he’s going to tell Ten he remembers the exact way Taeyong raises his left eyebrow, and the way his fabric softener smells.


	10. Chapter 10

  Taeyong treats Yuta well as if nothing is wrong, but both of them know for a fact that the tension is right there between them. Yuta shifts restlessly in the passenger seat, waiting for Taeyong to get back into the car. _Is he done stalling?_ He thinks, leaning on the driver’s seat and peeking out of the window. A few moments later he sees Taeyong walk out of the store and he sits up properly, pretending that he didn’t notice him.

  Taeyong opens the door and throws the packet at him. “Here,” he says gruffly. Yuta holds the extra large pack of gummy bears in his lap, not knowing if he is allowed to eat in Taeyong’s car. He remains in this stiff position all the way to Taeyong’s apartment, and he screams silently in anguish when he remembers where he is heading also belongs to this neat freak as well.

  Taeyong’s place is clean and simple like he is, and Yuta likes it. He settles on the couch like it is his own place, turning over Taeyong’s things without any manners. Taeyong doesn’t seem to mind, and he only watches him from a distance when he accidentally knocks over the air freshener cans on the top shelf. He hisses when one of them hits his hand with a thwack. “Are you okay?” Taeyong asks, even though Yuta can see he is trying not to pick up his collection first.

  “I’m fine,” he says, rubbing the sore part, “I’m a mountain man. I won’t be defeated by Febreze.” Yuta hates that he always makes a fool out of himself in front of Taeyong, even though Taeyong never called him out for it. _But it is embarrassing_.

  He has no idea why he had agreed to come here, since all Taeyong did was hover around him as if he would break everything and constantly giving him worried side glances. “You don’t look like you want me here,” Yuta tells him finally.

  Taeyong seems like he has nothing to say to this, and Yuta doesn’t know if he expected this or not. “So?” he asks, drumming his fingers on the table.

  “Don’t do that,” Taeyong says, and Yuta keeps on rapping his fingernails against the wood, if not louder. Taeyong gives him a look but does not say any more.

-

  He is _so inconsiderate_. _I never thought for other people. What if my dad needs me at home? What if Taeyong is fed up with me?_ Yuta browses the website with a practised ease, scrolling through the number of flights he can book. He clicks on the familiar airline he grits his teeth while entering his details. _This better fix this mess_ , he thinks.

  His information is processed and checks everything once, then he turns off the computer. Yuta turns in his chair and kicks the open suitcase. He doesn’t really know what to put in it because he doesn’t really want to leave, but the unease building up inside him because of his family, because of Taeyong, he does not have the courage to deal with it.

  Yuta doesn’t think his father knows, but even though he’s trying his best to hide it from him, it is obvious his father has been worrying a lot. Not to mention his grandparents are putting a lot of pressure on him to find an heir to the company.

  He declined Yuta’s video calls more often than he accepted them, and even when he did, he looks tired and distracted. _I hope this will be good for everyone_ , he thinks.

 ** _You [21:56]:_ ** _I’m going back to Japan_

 ** _10 [21:59]:_ ** _For how long?_

 ** _You [22:03]:_ ** _I don’t know_

 _**Y** **ou [22:03]:**_ _Forever?_

 ** _10 [22:04]:_ ** _Are you serious?_

  Yuta sighs when his phone vibrates, and he picks up Ten’s call. “Are you serious?” He asks, his voice full of concern.

  Yuta picks at his fingernails. “Yeah,” he says, “My flight is tomorrow.”

  “You’re joking,’ Ten says, “I don’t believe you for one second. Is this some sort of prank?”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  “Stop it. I’m really getting worried. You’re just visiting, right?”

  “No I said-” Yuta sighs. “Ten. I’m leaving for Japan tomorrow. I don’t know when I will come back. Maybe not, ever. I think I want to help my dad with the company stuff after all.”

  The other end is silent, and Yuta bites his lip, ashamed. “I’ll visit you,” Yuta says, “If you want me to.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ten asks finally. “I don’t believe you.”

  Yuta has an idea how Ten probably feels now. Confused, and upset. “Ten, I’m serious. Just listen to me for once.”

  “Yuta,” Ten starts, “Why are you leaving?”

  “I said, my dad- ”

  “No, really.”

  “Really,” Yuta says, “I know I said otherwise before, but now I- ugh, I don’t even know how to put this, Ten. They’re my family.”

  “Okay,” Ten breathes, “Okay, then. Why are you telling me this only now?”

  “I’m sorry, but I decided- ”

  “I’m at Thailand though. Why can’t you wait for me?” Ten asks, and Yuta thinks he can hear a hint of his tears in his voice. His chest hurts dully with guilt. “Why do you have to leave when I'm not here?”

  Yuta has nothing he can say to it. “I’m sorry, Ten, I really am.”

  “...What about Taeyong?” Ten asks, his voice small. “If you can’t stay here for me, then can you stay for him?”

  “Ten, he doesn’t have to know about this at all.”

  “Do you really have to leave?”

  “Don’t be so impulsive, Yuta,” he continues, “I mean, I- I think you should think about this.”

  “...Okay, Ten,” he says, “Just- I’m going to leave until the end of the break. I’ll come back, okay? _Then_ I will figure out if I still want to stay or not.”

  “Okay,” Ten says, his voice small. “You promise me.”

-

  The first thing Taeyong notices is that Yuta’s apartment looks unreasonably tidy, and all Yuta says is: “Maybe I suddenly found cleaning up after myself enjoyable.”

  He pokes fun at Yuta, saying, “I never thought you'd tidy this mess up unless you’re moving”, but it only seemed to make Yuta more uncomfortable so he shuts his mouth.

  He doesn’t question him anymore, since it is obvious Yuta is sulking. Taeyong wants to know why, but his presence seems to make Yuta even more uneasy than he originally was. Yuta leaves him on the sofa and Taeyong picks up his phone, wondering if it would be a good idea to send him a text.

  Taeyong stops short. _Something is wrong_. He doesn’t exactly know what it is, or why, but he knows Yuta is terribly upset. It’s just _there_ , a knot in his gut reminding him of Yuta and he feels like the air is being sucked out of his lungs. _Oh no_ , he thinks, his first instinct is to find Yuta and punch the hell out of whoever is making him upset.

  He pushes the door open, and Yuta is there, curled up on his bed. He has his phone next to his ear but he isn’t speaking into it. Clearly, he’s been crying, but he forces himself to stop when Taeyong walks up to him.

  “Are you okay?” Taeyong asks, and almost slaps himself. _Of course he isn’t you idiot_. Yuta closes his eyes, and it is as if he could will Taeyong away. To be honest, Taeyong is a bit hurt at how uncommunicative they are, but he can’t find it in himself to blame Yuta. After all, it’s still his fault.

  “What’s wrong?” he tries again.

  Yuta shakes his head. “Get out,” Yuta says and hiccups. Taeyong must be crazy, but he thinks if he held Yuta for a while, maybe he would stop crying for whatever reason he is upset for.

  Taeyong turns over the options in his head. He could stay and make Yuta annoyed, or he could leave and let Yuta be, but neither one of his choices seemed appropriate at this moment.

  Before he can decide to do anything, Yuta swings his legs off the side of the bed and walks to the bathroom, not even sparing him a glance. The door closes behind him and Taeyong is still standing there, dumbfounded. _What is making him so upset?_ He picks up the phone on his bed, easily unlocking it and opening the phone log.

  His heart sinks. There is no one on it. _It’s me_ , he thinks, _Isn’t it? He’s been avoiding me all this time._

-

  “I’m going to the grocery store, do you need anything?” He asks when he finally finds something to do. Yutas fridge is empty and he doesn’t stock up on food himself, and it is no surprise he lives off instant noodles. Yuta shakes his head, not even turning to look at him. No matter how Taeyong feels something is oddly out of place, he cannot exactly pinpoint what it is. He sighs and leaves, thinking that things will sort itself out. _Maybe we’ll have a talk when he is feeling better_.

  Yuta watches the door close behind Taeyong. _Thank fuck_ , he thinks, _I’ve got to go now_. Yuta rushes to his room and drags his suitcase out from under his bed.

   _Shit, where’s my passport?_ He digs in his drawers for it, forgetting where he had put it last time. He didn’t expect Taeyong to show up today since he doesn’t really come around anymore. At least, not as frequently as he did before. He had thought he would have the whole morning to look for it.

  He spends a good ten minutes scouring his room, and finally he moves on to the living room. He finds it in the place he keeps his photo albums, and he has no idea why it is there.

  Yuta checks that he has everything he needs, grabs his keys, and he is ready to disappear on Taeyong. He’s wasted quite a lot of time already, and Taeyong might be back at any moment.

-

  Yuta winds his scarf around his neck, rubbing his hands together while he waits for the green light. Suddenly, Taeyong appears across the street, a hand in his pocket and the other holding a plastic bag weighed down with groceries, and for a moment he heart sings happily. _Now isn’t the time to be hesitant_ , he tells himself.

  He didn’t think Taeyong would be back so quickly. Their eyes meet and- _shit_. Yuta doesn’t know where this came from, but he bolts, dragging his suitcase behind him as quickly as possible, and he doesn’t even look back to see if Taeyong is chasing. He  _knows_ he is.

  “Yuta!” Taeyong yells, “Where are you going?”

  Yuta clenches his teeth and runs faster, and his suitcase skids on the pavement. _Fuck, this is so dramatic_.

  He sprints out onto the road, not caring if it is still a red light. He hears the pedestrians scream when a car approaches him, and for a second he has a crazy thought of continuing across the street, but the panic gets the better of him. He skids to a stop and falls back on his butt on the asphalt, scraping his palms when he tries to break his fall. The car zooms by in front of him and he needs a moment to recover from the shock, and at that moment Taeyong is already next to him.

  Taeyong drops the plastic bag he had forgotten he was still holding, its contents spilling out. All he can see is Yuta sitting on the asphalt, eyes wide and lips trembling. He looks at Taeyong like he is calling his name for help, but Taeyong knows he isn’t.

  “Are you crazy?” He yells, dragging Yuta back onto the sidewalk by the arm. “Do you know what you are doing?”

  Yuta is still silent. Taeyong grabs him by his shoulders and shakes him. “Do you know how dangerous that was?” he hisses, “You didn’t have to go such lengths to run away from me. You could have died!” Taeyong grits his teeth, the rim of his eyes red in panic.

  “Yuta,” he says, putting down his arms. “This is the worst thing you could have done.” Yuta watches his chest rise and fall heavily, and he doesn’t know if it’s because he ran or if he is angry. He opens his mouth slightly to say something, anything, but no sound comes out.

  Taeyong sighs and closes his eyes when Yuta shows no sign of replying. He picks up the suitcase on the ground and grabs him by his arm. “Let’s go home, okay?” he says, “We can talk, but don’t do this anymore, please.”

  Yuta holds his scarf that has fallen onto the ground dumbly. He doesn't speak, and he clutches it to hide his scraped palms. They hurt but he isn't going to admit it.

   _Why did I chase him?_ He thinks. It is obvious enough that Yuta is running away from him. _And he can go wherever he wants… I’m not in any position to stop him. Why did I assume immediately that he is trying to leave me?_ He looks at Yuta walking reluctantly behind him, still looking dazed. _He can leave me_ , he realizes, _and h_ _e wants to leave me._

  It turns out Yuta didn’t run a long distance because it seems to only take Taeyong three minutes to half drag him home. They are silent during the walk and they are silent in the elevator as well, the air feeling ten times heavier and more suffocating than it usually is. The moment Taeyong closes the door behind them, Yuta realizes this isn’t what he planned. He snatches the suitcase from Taeyong, and reaches for the door. “Let me go,” he glowers at Taeyong, “Get out of my way.”

  “Where are you going?” Taeyong asks, standing in front of the door. “What’s wrong, Yuta? Why don’t we talk it out?”

  “My flight is in two hours. I need to go.”

  “Yuta!”

  “I’m going home,” he says, his voice low. He doesn’t know why he is telling this to Taeyong. He doesn’t need to know.

  “But- this is your home.”

  “No it isn’t,” Yuta says in exasperation, “I’m just trying to act in everybody’s best interest, Taeyong. Don’t worry, I won’t have anything to do with you. Don’t worry.”

  “Yuta, don’t- Why do you think this way? Did I do something? Do you _have_ to leave?”

  “No,” Yuta says, eyes wide and hysteric, “This isn’t going to work out. This isn’t right. I’m- This never happened, okay? We never happened. We don’t know each other. Let’s just pretend that this didn’t happen.”

  “Yuta, stop it,” Taeyong says, “I don’t want you to leave, I’m being honest.”

  ”Why aren’t you happy?” Yuta cries, shaking his head like Taeyong is not making any sense, “You don’t have to be responsible for me anymore! If you like it that way, I can say I agreed to this, but now I’m regretting it. Nobody will look at you like you did something wrong! Why can’t you just let me be?”

  Taeyong looks at him, utterly baffled. He knows he should say something to calm Yuta down, but he can’t think of anything at the moment. Some part of his brain does not understand why Yuta thinks that way, but another part can relate to him.

  “Can’t you see I’m trying to do what you want me to do? I’m doing what my family would want me to do as well! I’m trying to make everyone happy!”

  “I _know_ what you are doing, Yuta,” Taeyong says, “ _Don't do it_. Stop trying to please everyone else, okay? Can you think for yourself? If you insist on doing that I want you to stay. I- I need you to be here!”

  “Just let me leave,” Yuta cries, “I don’t know, think of me as a summer fling that lasted too long or something. You can mark a lot of omegas in your life, but I’ll only ever belong to you. Shouldn’t I be the one upset here? Why do you care? Even if I leave, you can always find another person to fill my place. You don’t need me.”

  “Yuta,” Taeyong shakes his head, “I really don’t know why you’re thinking this way.”

  “Listen,” Yuta says, swallowing the lump in his throat. He is becoming more and more stressed about this situation even though he cannot fathom why. Maybe it’s just Taeyong’s pheromones affecting him, but he doesn’t think that’s the only reason. “Listen. You want me to think for myself. Fine. _I_ want to leave. I can’t stay with you anymore.”

  It’s the worst thing to say, but it is the only thing Taeyong can think of. “You’re going to let them marry you off for their business, then?” he asks, hoping that Yuta doesn’t take it badly.

  “It’s not ‘them’, Taeyong. They’re my family. And even if nobody wants me because I’m mated, I can do this alone.” He bites his bottom lip. He doesn't really know what he is talking about anymore, but all he can think of now is that he is supposed to get away from this person in front of him, and he should get away.

  “Yuta, you don’t need to do this,” Taeyong pleads, “I… I don’t know what you want, Yuta. You never tell me. Tell me! I know I’m not rich or whatever crap you might want me to be, but- I can do anything you want, I swear.”

  “Please, Yuta,” he says, “Please just stay here. Don’t go anywhere.” Panic bubbles in Taeyong’s chest, and he hates the feeling that Yuta might really leave.

  “For what?” Yuta asks, his tone challenging. “What am I staying for?” For a second he is delusional and he thinks Taeyong will ask him to stay for his sake.

  Taeyong stops for a second, comprehending what he means. For a second, he almost couldn’t hold his ground. He lowers his voice, and suddenly everything seemed too quiet. “I know you don’t like me,” Taeyong says honestly.

  “Oh, I can’t help but  _like_ you,” Yuta bites back angrily.

  “Yuta,” Taeyong breathes in and rubs his temples, “What is done is  _done_. I’m sorry, I’ve told you a million times. But now let’s focus on what has to go next okay? Don’t be so- rash!”

  Yuta bites his lip, wanting to cry but not knowing for what reason. _So he means he’s apologetic, he didn’t want this to happen, he didn’t want me_ , he thinks, and feels pathetic. Why would he even think this way? He didn’t want this to happen either. He didn’t want him either. It must be the stupid bond making him all emotional and agitated.

   _What am I thinking? I know this. I know all of this. I know he doesn’t want me at all. What am I trying to do?_

  Yuta touches his shoulder, the jagged scar on the back easy to locate. He doesn’t know what he wants to achieve, but in his frustration he sinks his nails into the soft flesh as if he could rip it away and it would be as if nothing ever happened. He lets out a soft cry that surprises himself. _Never do that again_ , he reminds his future self at the bright and hot flash of pain, wincing as his fingernails open a wound. A trail of blood wet his fingers and he looks at it, half in anger, half in amusement.

  “What are you- ” Taeyong lifts his head up and sees Yuta staring at his bloody fingers. “-doing…” he finishes weakly, walking around the suitcase to him. Taeyong grabs him by the wrist, his grip like iron, “ _What are you doing_?” he repeats, but grinding it out between his teeth this time.

  “If I could rip this out- ”

  Taeyong turns him around roughly, warm breath on his neck as he inspects the wound. "If you could rip this out," he repeats, his voice bordering on a growl, "then _what_?"

  “Wash your hands,” he tells him after a while, void of emotion. His pheromones are rolling off him in waves, and Yuta can’t help but listen to him and disappears into the bathroom. _He is so angry_ , Yuta thinks, licking his lips nervously. He doesn’t know why it scares him so much, much more than seeing it written on his face, that he can feel in the pit of his stomach a dull dread at knowing Taeyong is angry through their bond.

  He lets the water run longer than necessary, touching the sore spot where Taeyong’s fingers had circled his wrist a little too hard, and is on the verge of crying for the second time. His palms sting from when he fell onto the road and the hard asphalt had grazed it, and it reminds him of how stupid that decision was. Yuta looks in the mirror and sees that the rims of his eyes are red, and he feels weak and helpless, the only thing he is able to do is to hide in the bathroom so he doesn’t need to face Taeyong.

  But the door opens as if Taeyong could read his mind. “Are you done?” he asks, his tone still unfriendly. Yuta nods, not looking at him.

  “Come here,” Taeyong says, his voice noticeably gentler when Yuta wrings his hands. Yuta sits down in front of him gingerly, letting him patch his wound up. “I’m sorry,” he sighs, “I didn’t mean to go rough on you, I was just afraid you’d hurt yourself.”

  Yuta doesn’t answer him, all the boiling emotions he had felt cooling down in his stomach until they become a nauseatingly cold and unpleasant mix. He doesn’t know what he is supposed to say or do anymore.

  “What about your hands?” Taeyong asks, and Yuta shoves them in between his legs.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Come on, let me take a look.” Taeyong squats down in front of him and draws his hands out. He touches the scraped skin gently, making Yuta hiss. “It’ll be better in a second,” he says, squeezing out the salve from a tube that Yuta doesn’t know how he found in his apartment, and using the cotton bud to apply the ointment on it.

  His lips tremble with a premonition that Taeyong is going to hate him, even though everything says otherwise. A part of Yuta hopes Taeyong would rage at him and make him so scared he would never think about running away from him ever again, but he knows both of them won’t let this happen.

  “Yuta, if you still insist you want to please other people... I just want you to know your parents and I, and even though I might not be important to you- If you’re not happy, we won’t be happy.

  “So I wish you’ll stay, for my sake, okay?” Taeyong doesn’t know what Yuta will say. Afterall he is putting himself on the line, and he has no idea if he even meant anything to Yuta. Yuta has the right and a good reason to hate him. He doesn’t look at Yuta, afraid he’ll  _see_ his rejection even though he might not say it out loud.

  “Taeyong, make me an omelette,” Yuta says quietly. “I want an omelette.” Taeyong looks up, searches his face and sighs.

  “Okay,” he tells him, his voice barely a whisper, “At least stay for the food.”

  Yuta’s lips threaten to curl into a smile, and he presses the urge down. _This isn’t funny_ , he tells himself.

-

  Later in the day Yuta regrets being so cranky in the morning. He’d cancelled his ticket under Taeyong’s supervision, and handed over his passport to his awfully paranoid alpha. Taeyong stashes it inside the very drawer he had found it in. _Is this why it was there_ … He shakes his head. It doesn’t matter.

  If he had held it in, they wouldn’t have to argue, he thinks. He bites his nails in regret and a little bit of anxiousness that Taeyong might still be pissed. Or that he might get angry again thinking of it. _Who knows when the alphas are going to get mad at you?_ Taeyong looks over at him and frowns. “Don’t bite your nails,” he says, and Yuta immediately puts his hand down. “It’s bad for you.”

  Taeyong holds out his hand and Yuta stares at it in confusion. There is nothing in it. _What?_ He looks up at Taeyong in a bit of unease. Taeyong’s lip twitches. He takes Yuta’s hand and curls it into a fist, wrapping his own around it. A lump forms in his throat and he glances at Taeyong, holding his hand on the table and the other typing away on his laptop with difficulty.

  He had called Johnny that he won’t be going to work today, and Yuta wonders how many times he has already done the same thing. Taeyong runs his thumb over the back of his hand, and he tenses up involuntarily. It’s guilt, he thinks, _he does care for me_. But he doesn’t think he made the wrong choice. He would run away now if it saves him the trouble later. He huffs out a sigh, directing his attention to Taeyong’s work.

  Yuta brings his other hand to his mouth stealthily, side-eyeing Taeyong for his reaction. For a while Taeyong doesn’t notice, but when he does, he gives Yuta a fed up look. He keeps his thumb and forefinger circled around his wrist, and motions with his vacant fingers for his other hand.

  Taeyong concentrates on his keyboard, typing with one hand but for some reason it is as if only two fingers are working properly. Yuta looks at his hand that seems like it’s going to spasm soon and snorts holding in his laughter.

  He pulls out his hands, and Taeyong looks at him in alarm. “Chill,” Yuta says, unable to look him in the eye but pretending nothing is affecting him. “I’m just going to the washroom.”

  “Don’t jump out of the window,” Taeyong says glumly, trying to be nonchalant.

  Yuta sighs to hide his amused smile, and he cannot even comprehend why it puts him at ease to know Taeyong is worried. “I won’t.”


	11. Chapter 11

  “Why are you here?” Johnny asks when he steps into their office and sees Taeyong, eyeing him weirdly. “Again?”

  “What? Is it weird that I’m working hard?”

  “You’re here _everyday_ ,” Johnny says, “It is something weird.”

  “Do I look like I have a lot of other things to do?”

  “Why aren’t you sparing time for your precious mate?”

  “Can’t I be responsible?” Taeyong snaps. Johnny starts at his attitude and Taeyong immediately regrets it.

  “We both know that’s not the reason you’re here, Taeyong,” Johnny spins in his chair. “What’s wrong?”

  Taeyong doesn’t answer, and Johnny presses him. “It’s been a whole _month_ , Taeyong,” he says, “I think you should talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” Taeyong says, “I’m just a terrible person.”

-

  Yuta blows on the scalding cup of hot chocolate, watching the ripples across the surface. “How were you the past few months?” He asks. The weather is colder than he had expected since he had survived last January pretty well, and he thinks he might need mittens soon.

  His mom laughs. “Better than ever. Phuket was terrific, you should go sometime,” she says, and Yuta smiles a little wistfully. “What about you?”

  “I’m fine,” Yuta says.

  “How’s your project coming along?”

  “Pretty good. We’re almost done.”

  “What’s bothering you, Yuta?” She asks, her gaze gentle.

  “Nothing,” he mutters, keeping his head bowed.

  “Tell me when you want to,” she says, and Yuta immediately feels guilty.

  “So… what’s it about Taeyong that I heard from your dad?” She asks, trying to make conversation to ease Yuta out of his distracted state. “Your dad says he’s good looking.”  She laughs. “And he doesn’t usually give compliments.”

  “Huh,” Yuta says without much enthusiasm, “Is he. I don’t think so.” 

  His mother grows silent, and for a minute they are both lost in their own thoughts. “Yuta,” she speaks up, sternly, “Do you want to talk about him? I _want_ to know if you’re not happy about this.”

  Yuta shakes his head, his tears already running down his cheeks. He doesn’t look up, feeling pathetic. His mom leans over and wipes his face with her hand, and Yuta ends up spilling the beans after all.

  He tells her everything honestly in between hiccups, even about how he knows Taeyong surfs the web for Japanese recipes because he is stupid and leaves his tabs open. Taeyong brings magnets to his place and puts them on his fridge to pin notes and remind him what buttons to push on the microwave and not to eat instant noodles. He tells her that he told the maid his father hired for him not to come over and it’s been so long when she last helped him tidy up. That is, until Taeyong decided he won’t come over anymore.

  Yuta had been confused but he shrugged it off for the first week, but even the messages came less frequently, and finally it felt like there are only traces of Taeyong in his life. He hasn’t seen him in person in two months.

  When he called and asked the maid to help him clean up on the Saturday of the second week Taeyong stopped coming around, she even stayed and cooked him lunch and dinner. Yuta knows she was close to consoling him and he realized he must have looked really upset.

  But he _just_ won’t put down his pride and ask why. Because Taeyong’s real answer, even if he might not tell him honestly, it would be something like ‘I got tired of you’, or ‘I can’t have you being such a bother’, and he doesn’t want to hear it from him.

  He should have _realized_. Nobody claiming a mate on a whim would have been someone going to put up with him for long. And he’s been such a nuisance. All he ever does is ignore Taeyong and get pissed at him whenever he does something wrong. He knows he hasn’t been appreciating his efforts as well has his patience, but he didn’t realize he’d gone too far with it.

  Yuta hadn’t thought he would, but he feels so insecure not knowing where Taeyong is. He might only be a phone call away, or he could be avoiding him for good. The worst thing is he doesn’t know which one it is, because he cannot put down his pride to ask. He’d be admitting that he misses Taeyong, and maybe he’d even take it as he needs him. And it just won’t do.

   _Call me stubborn_ , he thinks, _It doesn’t change anything._

-

  “So now you’re just going to assume things with each other.”

  Taeyong sighs. “I’m not _assuming_ , Johnny!” He says for the hundredth time. “He said so himself. I’m rather inconsiderate if he wants to go back to his family, aren’t I? I mean, it’s his _family_.” Taeyong closes his folder and rests his head on it, too disheartened by the conversation to work.

  “Let me put your kindness another way: you’re ignoring him,” Johnny says, “He’s probably upset.”

  “He won’t be,” Taeyong assures him, “He thinks it’s better if I stay out of his way.”

  Johnny gives him a sceptical look but doesn’t say anything else. “Okay,” he shrugs, “It’s your problem. I don’t want to intervene.”

  “Thanks,” Taeyong says, rolling his eyes.

  “If you don’t want to talk about this we can talk about something else.”

  Taeyong sighs. It’s not that he doesn’t want to face this problem, but he is afraid he has no solution to it. What if Yuta thinks he’s stuck with him forever and hates him for it? _That is understandable_ , he thinks. To be very honest, Taeyong is a little scared of how Yuta always has a clever way to parry his advances, and he doesn’t know when he can get through that invisible but very invincible wall that Yuta has built specifically between them.

   _Maybe I should give him some room to breathe_ , he’d thought, _I’m tired as fuck too_.

  Taeyong knows he is the one at fault in the first place, but _heck_ , it feels terrible when your efforts are not acknowledged.

  Taeyong glances at Johnny, wondering if he should tell. In his mind it is all very clear and sensible why he thinks giving Yuta space is a very good idea, but when it’s almost out of his mouth, it sounds more like he is ditching him. Taeyong swallows, a little guilty. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

-

  It’s been three weeks since his mom is abroad yet again. This time it’s to Germany, but he doesn’t remember where exactly. Yuta puckers his lips when he goes through the options, unable to decide what to have. “Can I get you anything, sir?”

  Yuta jumps and sees Jaehyun standing close, smiling playfully. “Oh- hey,” Yuta greets a bit unenthusiastically compared to him. Jaehyun slides into the seat across from him, and he gives him a withering look. “Is this your shift or not?”

  “No,” he says amiably, “I’m here as a customer.”

  “Do they give you discounts?”

  Jaehyun shrugs. “I think so.” He grabs the menu from Yuta’s hands, scrunching up his nose when he reads through it.

  “I don’t remember asking you to sit with me.”

  “I don’t remember you telling me to leave.”

  Yuta sighs. “Fine,” he says, “What do you want?”

  “Nothing.” Jaehyun blinks, and Yuta purses his lips. “You just look a bit upset.”

  “Really,” Yuta replies dryly, “Do I.”

  “You do,” Jaehyun says, raising his hand. “What happened?” He orders two bowls of wonton noodles for them, completely ignoring the fact that he doesn’t know what Yuta wants. “It’s okay,” he says. “Wonton noodles are always the right choice.”

  Yuta smiles quietly, a bit amused. “So?” Jaehyun asks, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is,” Yuta tells him, “I don’t know… I’m just a bit down these days.”

  “Then there is something wrong,” Jaehyun says matter-of-factly. He folds his arms on the table, looking at Yuta attentively in a way that reminds him of a primary school student.

  “Really,” Yuta laughs awkwardly, “Nothing’s going on. Don’t worry.”

  “Okay,” Jaehyun says with a light pout.

  “Why are you so childish?” Yuta asks suddenly. “How old are you?”

  Jaehyun cocks his head in surprise at his question, and he takes it literally. “Uhh,” he says, counting on his fingers, “I think I’m twenty-four... wait- yeah, I’m twenty-four.”

  Yuta laughs, and it’s the happiest he has been for a long time, even though this is such a small thing. Jaehyun seems to be taken aback by his fluid change of emotion. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks, laughing along. Yuta shakes his head, busying himself by taking off his scarf and folding it neatly.

  “What are you doing tonight?” Yuta asks instead.

  Jaehyun’s eyes widen, taken off guard. “What do you mean?”

  “Can we get ice cream together, after this?” Yuta presses.

  Jaehyun has a mildly panicked look in his eyes at Yuta’s hopeful gaze. “W-what about- Is that okay?”

  “Of course it’s okay,” Yuta says, knowing he should be worrying about that instead of Jaehyun, “What are you talking about?”

  “No, like- Is Taeyong going to kill me for this or something?”

  Yuta snorts, but he is guilty on the inside. “He can’t,” he snaps, “Don’t worry, aniki is here.” He pats his chest confidently.

  Their noodles arrive and they eat in silence, Jaehyun seeming much less talkative than before.

  “You guys argued?” He asks out of the blue, and Yuta almost chokes.

  He shakes his head, eyes red from coughing. “No,” he says, and he isn’t lying. He hates how Jaehyun catches on things quickly. Or maybe he's just being too obvious.

  Jaehyun hands him a tissue and looks at him sympathetically. “Don’t be upset,” Jaehyun says, “He is a very gentle person. It’ll be fine.”

  “I said, we didn’t argue.”

  “He is a very gentle person,” Jaehyun repeats. “Give him some time to cool off, and he’ll eventually come around. Trust me, he loves you regardless-”

  “ _Jaehyun_ ,” Yuta stops him, “We didn’t argue.” The word ‘love’ makes him want to pour bleach into his ears to clean it from the bullshit he is hearing.

 “But-” Jaehyun swallows his words when Yuta glares at him. “ ...Okay.”

-

  It is almost one when he reaches home that night. He had forced Jaehyun to accompany him to the arcade that he’d been to once with Taeyong, but honestly, he had been a good hyung, paying for everything.

  “This is almost like you’re my sugar daddy,” Jaehyun had laughed when Yuta handed him his drink.

  “You wish,” Yuta grinned.

  He had been so angry this afternoon, making every game he played borderline violent by imagining the target is Taeyong. He’s starting to hate him for not being around, even though his pride tells him that he doesn’t need him at all to survive.

  Yuta takes a long shower. He accidentally scratches the scar at his neck hard and he winces when his nails catch on it, cursing to himself. _Everything is trying to remind me of Taeyong_. He grits his teeth and ignores the dull pain, continuing to lather his body with soap.

 _Shut up shut up shut up_ , he tells himself, because he knows today did nothing to help him ignore the fact that Taeyong left him. _That fucking nasty bitch_. Yuta almost throws the showerhead at the wall.

  Yuta walks out of the shower with a towel over his head. He picks up his phone and there is a message from Jaehyun that he hasn’t read.

   **_Jaehyun [01:13]:_ ** _Are you home yet?_

 **_You [01:47]:_ ** _Yeah_

 **_You [01:47]:_ ** _Thanks for today_

**_Jaehyun [01:49]:_ ** _No problemo_

 **_You [01:50]:_ ** _Don’t tell Taeyong about this_

**_Jaehyun [01:59]:_ ** _…_

 **_You [01:59]:_ ** _Do_ **_not_ ** _do it_

  Yuta sighs, throwing his phone down on the couch. He turns on the TV, and decides he’ll wait for his hair to dry on its own, then he will go to sleep.

-

  “What are you doing here?” Yuta asks, perplexed. “At this time too.”

  “Nothing, I just wanted to speak to you,” Taeyong says, a tuft of hair sticking up so Yuta knows he’s not in his best state.

  “You could have called me.” If Yuta is surprised that Taeyong showed up at his door, he doesn’t show it. He _stealthily_ stares at him, since he hasn’t seen him in almost two months. _Where were you?_ He wanted to ask, but he wanted so show that his absence didn’t affect him much. He is still stubborn.

  “I wanted to see you.”

  Yuta purses his lips, then opens the door slowly. He shouldn’t, he thinks, but he does it anyway. “...Come in then,” Yuta tells him, and when Taeyong looked shocked at his sudden kindness, “Don’t even think about it. I wouldn’t let anyone stand at my door.” In fact, he would.

  Both of them do not bring up the fact that they haven’t seen each other in two months as if they had made a silent agreement. The first thing Taeyong does when he steps into the room is to look Yuta up and down, and Yuta shuffles his weight on his feet. “What are you looking at,” he snaps, “Never seen a handsome person?”

  It shuts Taeyong up good even though he didn’t say anything. “Whatever,” Yuta says, “Go sit down or something. Or are you just going to stand there and admire me until the end of the world?” It gets Taeyong to smile a little, and only then does Yuta realize he’s been frowning all this time.

  Taeyong observes the changes in Yuta. His hair has gone back to its natural colour, and he is wearing cute Pikachu socks because of the cold. Yuta looks at him with furrowed brows and pursed lips, and it is obvious he’s mad at him. But he can’t wait to know _why_ , and he hopes it’s not because he woke him up.

  “What’s your business?” he asks when he settles back on the couch, trying to get his focus back on the soap opera rerun. Taeyong doesn’t answer him, so he gets this terrible nagging feeling at the back of his mind that he is just watching him, and he can’t even hear what the actors are saying even though it looks like some juicy tea.

  They sit in silence for a while, then Taeyong speaks up. “I’ll be gone for a week,” he tells Yuta. Yuta narrows his eyes at him. _You've been gone for ages_ , he thinks, _What the fuck_.

  When Yuta gives him no response, Taeyong cards his fingers through his hair. Dark, natural, the way he likes it. “It’s just to Busan though.” There’s a weird feeling in his chest, he doesn't want to be away from Yuta. “Take care of yourself.”

  “We’re like, the same age,” Yuta tells him, escaping from his hand. “I’m not a child.” He shakes his hand off haughtily, and resists the urge to pout. 

  “Yuta,” Taeyong says softly, because the night is too still for him to speak any other way. Yuta had turned the lights dim, he’d wanted to sleep, but now Taeyong is keeping him up. Taeyong scoots closer to him, conveniently picking up the remote and turning off the TV. The air becomes deathly quiet and suddenly it feels like ice that will crack if he talks too loudly.

  “What.” Yuta feels something is about to happen because Taeyong is closing in on him, and he panics inside. “What.” His voice trembles and hopefully he is the only one who hears it. Taeyong furrows his brows and he’s so close Yuta is going to explode. He leans back nervously, his back against the arm of the sofa.

  He knows Taeyong is trying to kiss him, and his body language also tells Yuta he isn’t sure of himself as well. Yuta panics, his whole body trembling and screaming for him to get away. He meets Taeyong’s eyes accidentally and Taeyong stops all of a sudden, and he poises motionless where he is, the little hopefulness draining out of his expression. Yuta turns stone cold, bile rising in his stomach.

   _I knew it_ , Taeyong thinks, _Why am I trying?_

  “I’m sorry,” Taeyong whispers finally, breaking eye contact. Yuta lets out the breath he had been holding, but he doesn't feel any better.

  “When I come back I’ll take you somewhere you like,” Taeyong says out of the blue, but Yuta has a good idea why. _He’s probably guilty he wasn’t here for so long_. He wants to ask him for the reason, but perhaps he doesn’t want to talk about it. Maybe all this time Taeyong has only been tolerating him. _But why did he try to… no, don’t think about that_.

  “I’ll be on my way, then,” Taeyong says, picking up his jacket and his scarf that is draped over the back of the couch.

  “S-so late?” Yuta asks, his mouth dry and the words almost get stuck in his throat.

  “Yeah.” Taeyong doesn’t look at him, and only bends to slip on his shoes.

  Yuta purses his lips. “You can stay,” he says, “But- ”

  “I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.” Taeyong bows his head. “I’m sorry… for today.” Yuta wants to tell him it’s alright but Taeyong gives him no time. “At least, can I hug you?”

  Yuta doesn’t trust himself to speak, and gives him the smallest nod. In a second Taeyong’s arms are around him, light, like he wants to knead Yuta into himself but is afraid he might push him away. It takes him by surprise and makes him feel like he’s missing something. Taeyong smells like cedar, warm and intoxicating.

  There are so many words at the tip of his tongue. _Why are you here? Why did you disappear for so long? Are you trying to make up for it?_ Yuta bites his lip, a bit scared by how Taeyong doesn’t want to pull him closer. _What do you mean by all of this?_

  When he crawls into bed later he still remembers the way Taeyong holds him like he is going to break. And he remembers how he had forgotten to hug him back. And it’s so late, so dark outside to be alone.

  Yuta closes his eyes. _It’s okay_. If he pays with a guilty consciousness, he can afford to not think about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! My internship is almost over so I guess I'll be able to update more frequently from now on. Thanks for still reading up to here ﾍ(ﾟ∇ﾟﾍ)


	12. Chapter 12

  Yuta looks at the people milling around him, the beer in his hand half empty and he still can’t find Ten. He stands on his tiptoes and looks for Johnny instead, who seems to be an easier target. Bodies push past him and he stumbles, then going back to his daze. He takes another swig of the beer the stupid beer and squeezes through the crowd towards the bar.

  Slipping into the stool next to Johnny, he pinches his arm. “Where’s Ten?” He asks. Johnny shrugs and he frowns. “Aren’t you worried about him?”

  “I trust him,” Johnny says and sighs. “I’m more worried about _you_.”

  ”What?” Yuta asks, and Johnny shakes his head.

  “Nevermind.” He isn't sure if he can tell Yuta he knows he and Taeyong aren’t on good terms anymore.

  “I'm thinking about going to the back,” Yuta tells him, picking at his fingernails. “It’s boring here.”

  “This is why I’m worried about you,” Johnny says exasperatedly, and Yuta pouts. “I have no idea why Ten agreed for you to come along.”

  “Maybe it’s because he knows if he doesn’t let me, I’ll go on my own.”

  “You make other people worry their heads off, I swear.”

  “I’m just looking for fun, I promise,” Yuta says. Johnny looks unconvinced but he doesn’t say anything, only letting him go with a wary expression.

-

  He’ll be honest. He is afraid of Taeyong only being with him because he feels obligated to. He doesn’t want to trust a promise as empty as that. And he doesn’t know for sure if his drink is spiked, but all he knows is that he feels like he is floating and his face is probably an embarrassing shade of red. He stumbles away from the man, and surprisingly he doesn’t follow him.

  He shouldn’t have accepted a drink from a stranger. Yuta feels like the world is spinning and he almost trips over his own feet.

   _Johnny_ , he thinks, _I need to look for Johnny_.

  Yuta burps and he covers his mouth embarrassedly. It catches the attention of the alpha next to him and he laughs. “Hey,” he says, grinning. He doesn’t look like a bad person, but Yuta can’t be sure. “Are you alone?”

  He doesn’t know what’s gotten into his head and he nods honestly, the alcohol messing with his senses. He shakes his head, but the alpha laughs. “Are you okay?”

  Yuta doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he nods. He looks to the bar but Johnny isn’t there anymore. Panic rises up in his chest and for a moment he wants to run, but there is nowhere to run. The alpha touches his hair, and Yuta jumps. “Wow,” he says, “It’s really as soft as I thought.” He sounds amazed and Yuta doesn’t know how inebriated he is.

  The pounding music makes him feel no better and he feels like passing out right there and then. “I- I’m looking-” Yuta’s knees buckle, and he feels a bout of nausea. He has a hand on his forehead and the alpha steadies him, cooing.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he says, sounding like he is speaking to a baby. “Wow- you’re hot, like literally.” Yuta sucks in a cold, sharp breath, only realizing his situation then.

  “You smell so fucking-” The alpha’s hair fall into his eyes, but Yuta can see them widen. He grabs him by the wrist and Yuta whimpers at the touch, his blood searing and his limbs weak.

  The alpha kisses him, raw and hard, and he squirms. _Fuck_ , he thinks. And it isn’t as terrible as he had thought a second ago. The fire in his chest subsides for a moment and his head feels clearer even though he still can’t help himself. He hasn’t felt this way for _so long_. He moans a little, and the alpha’s arm snakes around his waist, bringing him closer. Yuta’s head hurts and he can’t really make out what he looks like, or maybe it’s too dark. His limbs don’t work and he feels like crying, but no tears come out.

  Yuta hates the way he feels the need to submit to an alpha just like this, but he can’t help it. It is the instinct churning in the pit of his stomach telling him he should appreciate it that an alpha is taking an interest in him, and he should preen under the attention.

  Yuta doesn’t know if he is wavering under the effect of the pheromones, but the alpha is so simple and unmistakable, nothing like Taeyong. _Taeyong_ , he growls, _I’m still all wound up over him_ , and he closes his eyes and kisses the alpha back, urgent for something that will wipe him off his mind. He looks at Yuta with eyes full of lust and Taeyong looks at him always with a clouded withdrawal. It hurts, but maybe he hurts Taeyong a lot as well. Maybe he doesn’t deserve him.

  “I want more of you,” the alpha says, and Yuta nods, not even trying to hold back anymore. He doesn’t have hidden meanings in his speech and he does it like he mean it. Yuta pulls at the collar of his hoodie, trying to regulate his ragged breathing.

  Yuta sucks in a breath when he pulls him into the bathroom, suddenly terribly scared. He still feels floaty and he regrets kissing the alpha back already, but under the influence of alcohol and the pheromones he can only draw deep, irregular breaths. His body is sweaty and he feels terrible and dizzy. _Shit_ , he thinks, _no, no, not like this_. He tries to push the alpha away but he must feel nothing, because Yuta knows there is no strength in his arms.

  “You’re mated,” the alpha stops suddenly, pushing back his collar. “What is he doing, letting you out and about like this?” He touches the mark, sending a shiver through Yuta. It feels terrible, like somebody looking him up and down naked. He shies backwards, choking on air.

  “Don’t- touch me there,” he gasps. Yuta leans back against the cold wall, registering how hard his chest is rising and falling.

  “You’re mated,” the alpha repeats again, and hot tears spring into Yuta’s eyes.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he says, “He doesn’t care.” Yuta swallows the lump in his throat, tears threatening to spill out onto his cheeks.

  “You never asked if I minded.” Yuta pretends he isn’t intimidated by the alpha’s pressing aura, but it is obvious he is submitting already. “But it’s fine,” he drawls, “It’s what makes you so appealing.”

  “Mated omegas are always lovely. Otherwise their alphas wouldn’t have wanted them, right?” His words make Yuta’s intestines twist up. _No, he doesn’t want me. He never wanted me, I’m sure_. He accidentally whimpers out loud at the thought and the alpha raises an eyebrow. Like how Taeyong loves to. “Do you want to back out now I’ve reminded you of that?” He challenges, and it triggers something in Yuta.

 _Maybe you are misinformed_ , Ten had said, _If only you guys talked about it_. “I haven’t seen him in- in ages.” He doesn’t know why he is suddenly pouring his heart out to somebody he doesn’t know, and crying like a child at that. “I- I- I’m not that dumb,” he says in between his sobs, “I know that means he doesn’t want me.”

  For a moment the alpha seems to pity him. “It’s okay,” he says, his words drunk and slurred but Yuta can’t hear them anyway. “I can help you forget about that.” He presses closer and Yuta shies back against the wall. His smell is suffocating and it adds to Yuta’s headache.

  He fiddles with the hem of Yuta’s hoodie. “I suppose this is his, then? It doesn’t smell like you.” Yuta doesn’t give him a reply, too out of it to form a coherent sentence, but his expression betrays him. The alpha shakes his head in an amused way that makes Yuta think he is useless, motioning for him to put his hands up. “The first step is taking this off.”

  Yuta raises his arms reluctantly, putting them down halfway up. He doesn’t know if it’s because of the drink or his own wavering consciousness anymore.

  The alpha stops suddenly, as if he feels something is wrong. Yuta only knows how to stare, eyes wide and tears still running down his cheeks. The alpha growls, pressing his body closer but this time Yuta isn’t scared anymore. He braces his arms on the wall on either of Yuta’s sides, and Yuta knows it’s an alpha’s way of showing they are protecting something.

  “You smell it?”

  “What…?” Yuta manages to squeeze out of his throat, not registering anything because all his senses seem to have shut down.

  He relaxes and shrugs, as if he had thought too much. “Maybe it’s just his shirt-”

  The alpha jerks violently, producing a pained howl, and Yuta flinches. He turns around and swings his fist at the attacker, and Yuta drops to the ground on reflex, sitting down entirely because his legs give way. He draws in a shaky breath and almost cries again because of the scare.

  “Yuta,” Taeyong growls and- _it’s Taeyong_. “You stupid-” Yuta cries out loud at _that_. _I don’t want to see him here_ , he thinks, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. _I don’t want him to see me here_.

  The alpha strikes back and Yuta couldn’t stop himself from wincing when he lands a blow on Taeyong’s jaw.

  “Wait,” Yuta says, mustering up all of his strength to stand up, his legs wobbly. “Wait!” He grabs Taeyong’s arm and pushes him back, but he breaks out of his weak grip and the other alpha tackles him to the ground.

  The two of them curse at each other when they get up. “Stop it!” Yuta yells hoarsely at them, his head hurting like hell, and Taeyong doesn’t seem to hear it. Ironically, the other alpha looks to him, and Yuta has never felt this stupid.

  “Stop it,” he breathes. “Taeyong. Please.” His tears stream down his cheeks and maybe because he looks defenseless and piteous, the air is suddenly silent, except for the pounding bass from a distance.

  “Get out,” Taeyong glowers at the alpha, who backs away, thinking this isn’t worth an all-out fight. “You fucking bastard.”

  The alpha spits before leaving. “You mean _you_ fucking bastard.” He glares at Taeyong and then Yuta, and Yuta thinks instead of malice, it feels more like an accusation. Then he gives Taeyong the middle finger. Yuta loosens his arm around Taeyong’s immediately, and at the same time Taeyong shakes him away.

  To keep his pride intact, he was the one who let go first.

  It’s _Taeyong_. Taeyong stares at him, gaze raking up and down, and Yuta crosses his arms in front of himself protectively.

  “Why are you here?” Yuta asks weakly, realizing that Taeyong can see him in all his dishevelled glory, his hair messed up and his eyeliner smeared. And _good God_ , he is wearing Taeyong’s clothes, and that is exactly what he doesn’t want him to see.

  Taeyong doesn’t answer him, and he only stands and stares. “Why are you here?” Yuta asks again.

  “I didn’t realize I’d be flying back early for this.” His voice is cold and hard, and Yuta shivers.

  “You saw what you saw,” he grinds out of his teeth, “There’s nothing to it.” Yuta can’t forget how much he’d cried on his own thinking Taeyong will never come back, and he wants to blame him. He tries to push past Taeyong outside, but Taeyong grabs him by the loop of his jeans and pulls him back.

  “Don’t even _think_ about going anywhere,” Taeyong snarls, and his eyes are nothing like Yuta has seen. He’s not the pliant, gentle Taeyong he knows. This Taeyong is bubbling with anger, and the pheromones he gives off makes Yuta weak at the knees.

  He slams the washroom door shut behind Yuta, and pushes him against it. Yuta’s back hurts from the impact and he shudders, and normally Taeyong would have relented already. Normally he would immediately reach for Yuta and ask him if it hurts and apologize.

  Yuta forces down his gasp, setting his jaw. He has to hold his ground, at least in front of _Taeyong_.

  “Stop it, whatever you think you’re doing,” Yuta sneers, feeling Taeyong’s iron grip on his arm tighten. “Don’t expect me to be sorry.”

  “What if I’m not here?” Taeyong asks, his breath on his cheek, “What if I didn’t come?”

  “You would just let him… You would just go along with it,” he hisses, narrowing his eyes. “I can’t believe it, Yuta.”

  Yuta looks up at him, a triumphant spark in his eyes. “I would. I would,” he says, “But _he_ didn’t start it. _I_ did.” He smirks, making Taeyong’s hackles rise. He doesn’t know why he has to lie, but at this point he can’t care less, and all he wants is Taeyong to give him up.

  “You’re _my_ mate,” Taeyong says, crowding him closer to the door, “You don’t fool around like this.”

  “Oh but Taeyong,” Yuta stretches out the syllables, enjoying how Taeyong is really riled up for the first time. He basks in Taeyong’s anger and jealousy. Though it is unbelievable, _this_ is what he wants from his alpha, if not more. He _wants_ to know Taeyong wants him. “Does it matter?” It makes him feel like he is important, and it makes him feel like he can affect Taeyong.

  “It does,” Taeyong says, enunciating the words clearly.

  “It doesn’t.” Yuta touches his cheek. “You showed me that.”

  “I told you, it does.”

  “Then why did you leave me?” Yuta asks, the frustration he has built up inside himself for the past months finally spilling out.

  “I didn’t leave you,” Taeyong says, but it appears weak and unconvincing.

  “You did,” Yuta whispers, “You never gave me a moment’s notice and you were never there, as if you decide when you come and go as you please. And then you show up out of the blue, telling me you are about to leave. As if I will just accept anything you do without any question.” He swallows, watching Taeyong.

  “I needed to think.”

  He meets Taeyong’s eyes with the most determination he has ever had, ignoring whatever he had said. “And now, you’re coming back, telling me what to do. You _don’t_ have a say anymore.”

  Taeyong stares at him, and Yuta doesn’t know if he is thinking or he doesn’t have an answer. “You should never have had a say,” Yuta adds softly, trying to add insult to injury. _If this works out, then Taeyong will give me up once and for all_.

  “I’m not a good thing, Taeyong,” he says, his head oddly clear all of a sudden. “But you aren’t either. You shouldn’t have left me alone like that, after you promised me you wouldn’t. Do you think, maybe you shouldn’t have stopped me from going home after all?”

  Taeyong is so overwhelmed with rage that he cannot think of anything to say, and as if on cue, somebody bangs on the door from outside and Taeyong lets out a frustrated growl, hauling Yuta towards himself and flinging it open. He grabs Yuta and pushes him outside, through the throng of people and out of the bar. He doesn’t know what he could have said to that. _All of his accusations are true_ , he knows, _but I don’t mean it_ that _way._ He has one hand around Yuta’s arm, dragging him forward but there isn’t really much resistance.

  It is a late hour, and there are no people on the streets. Yuta pants as they are finally able to breathe fresh air, and it makes Taeyong’s pheromones hit him hard like a punch in the chest. There is suddenly not enough air in his lungs and he makes a piteous sound, and he hates everything.

  Yuta’s knees buckle and he sits down heavily on the ground. There is still this terrible, terrible feeling in his gut and it feels like a cold torrent in his stomach. He doesn’t know what he is scared of. He could say it’s because of Taeyong’s pheromones that made the air thicken, because he knows every omega who gets a whiff of it can be reduced to tears. But he knows it’s not only this. _What if… what if Taeyong isn’t here? Why am I so… helpless? I would really-_

  “Come on, Yuta. Stand up,” Taeyong says, grabbing him by his arm roughly. “Leave.”

  “No,” he grinds out between his teeth, trying to fling his hand away. Taeyong runs out of patience, putting an arm around his waist and hauling him towards his car. “Let go of me!” His yell sounds clear and loud, but it doesn’t shake Taeyong.

  His head _still_ hurts and he feels terrible and Taeyong heaving him around like a potato sack does not make it better at all. Taeyong manhandles him into his car, pulls the seat belt and locks it forcefully. He slams the door close, so hard that the car shakes a little, and when Yuta snaps out of it, Taeyong is already revving up the engine. “We’re going home.”

  Taeyong drives without looking at him. “My place isn’t that way,” Yuta says angrily when he realizes where he is going.

  “As if I’ll let you back alone,” Taeyong quips, slapping the steering wheel in frustration as a car cuts into the line.

  The red light beeps when Yuta unlocks his seat belt. “Nakamoto Yuta,” Taeyong grinds out between his teeth, and Yuta scoffs, even though Taeyong has never pulled his full name on him before, and he should find this intimidating.

  “Stop the car,” Yuta tells him, letting the belt snap back with a surprisingly loud sound. Taeyong pays no heed to him, and continues to look ahead. Yuta pulls on the handle. “If you continue it won’t stop me from getting off.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Taeyong asks, his voice full of anger. “Put on your seat belt right now.” Yuta rattles the handle and finds the door locked.

  Yuta fumes at his tone. “Of course not,” he bites back. _As if I’m only talk_ , Yuta thinks. In one swift move he lowers the back of the chair and crawls into the backseat. The car lurches and he almost lands face first on the floor, but he reaches for the door anyway.

  Taeyong pulls up abruptly, and he falls onto the seats heavily. “ _Yuta_ ,” Taeyong growls, and Yuta pays him no attention. He gets up from his awkward position and reaches for the handle of the door, finding it locked as well.

  “Fuck you,” Yuta says, “You fucking- ”

  Taeyong curses and makes a U-turn, stepping on the pedal so the car lurches forward. Yuta’s falls back, his brain feeling like it is floating on water and he wants to throw up. “ _You better stay still there or I’ll fuck you in the backseat!_ ” Taeyong yells, and through the rearview mirror Yuta can see him gritting his teeth. He drives to Yuta’s place angrily, cursing under his breath all along the way.

  Yuta isn’t sure if his threat is real or not, so he stays put reluctantly, half scared, half angry. He bites his hand and he cries in frustration. He doesn’t know why he always has to act like he is strong in front of Taeyong. He is sure — not _sure_ , but — Taeyong would understand if he told him he doesn’t feel well. But he has to lie and act all snobbish and snarky, as if he knows what he is doing. He _doesn’t_. All Yuta knows is Taeyong might already hate him and will hate him more for this, and everything is _not_ good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry Yuta I love you I swear I don't mean to hurt you TAT


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I've decided it's probably better to update these two chapters at once  
> Also I just wrote something terribly sappy that's in a later part of this story so I'm just going to apologize with that for this later TAT

  A spiked drink didn’t exist at all, he realizes it now. It’s his heat and the alcohol. And trying too hard to prove to himself he doesn’t need Taeyong.

-

  Taeyong drags him by the wrist, and Yuta thinks there will be a permanent bruise on his arm at this rate. He fishes for the keys in Yuta’s pocket and opens his door, pushing him inside. “You better-”

  “What?” Yuta asks angrily, “After ignoring me for so long, you decide that I’m worth talking to again?”

  “I’m sorry for that, but-”

  “You’re _sorry_?” Yuta grits his teeth incredulously. “Does that change anything?”

  “Why does everybody tell me I shouldn’t be upset, but I hurt still the same?” Yuta cries. “Why does everybody think you’re always right and I’m always wrong?”

  “You _left me for so long_ , and I didn’t know anything. Am I not supposed to be upset? Am I still supposed to come to you like it means nothing?”

  Taeyong is silent, and it feels dangerous. “But it doesn’t matter if I’m there or not,” Taeyong says. “Maybe you feel better not having me around.”

  “What are you talking about?” Yuta hisses.

  “Since when did you want me around?” Taeyong asks, cocking his head in a menacing way, “ _I_ kept on doing shit for you without your acknowledgment. _I_ was the one you kept on rejecting. You _always_ parr my advances, no matter how hard I try. Tell me, _wasn’t that a clear sign my presence annoys you?_ ”

  “From the first moment you’ve been showing me you didn’t want to put any effort into this. I don’t know how you can do that but- I never expected to mark you, and I wanted to compensate for what I did wrong. I’ve been trying to find out what you want from me, I have- honest to God- tried my best to be good to you but you never give me any response. I can never satisfy you because you never tell me what you want.” Taeyong grits his teeth. “Maybe I had been reading all your signals wrong and, from the _very first moment_ ,  you really just wanted me to fuck off, don’t you? Maybe you’re better off without me and I’m the only one trying to make this work because You. Never. Wanted. Me.”

  “Am I right?” Taeyong presses when Yuta doesn’t reply. Taeyong pheromones are overwhelming. Yuta keeps on crying because everything is _wrong_ and his stomach hurts and his head hurts and he feels like he’s going into his heat anytime soon and everything is bad. Taeyong’s pheromones make everything worse. It makes him feel like- _I hurt so much but you’re still asking me this._

  “Calm the fuck down,” Yuta whispers, trying to sound aggressive but he is scared because this time, Taeyong is not taking his hostility well.

  “Right,” Taeyong scoffs, “ _Look at you._ How am I supposed to deal with you?”

  “What do you _want_?” Taeyong asks, “I’ve had enough of your mixed signals. I know it’s my fault in the first place, but I don’t see what I am supposed to do when you act like this.”

  “Let’s say,” Taeyong sets his jaw, admitting what Yuta is scared of the most. “Yes. I left you. For a while. Because I thought you wanted me to do that. _And you go around desperate for an alpha?_ ”

  “Lee Taeyong,” Yuta says furiously. He doesn’t know why he isn’t telling Taeyong that he couldn’t think straight, but at this point it seems even if he did, Taeyong might not listen. “Do you really think of me like that?” They have never called each other by their full names, and he had thought it would have some impact, but apparently not.

  “I think what happened supports it,” Taeyong spits coldly. He _is_ an alpha. And no matter how affable he might be, the scent of another alpha on his omega irks him to no end. He bares his teeth and growls thinking of it, and he can see Yuta swallowing the lump in his throat, but still holding his ground.

  “Listen,” Yuta says, and he knows this will hurt. _If he wants to get rid of me, I’ll get rid of him first_. “I have no emotional attachment to you whatsoever. Why do you think you have the right to tell me what to do?”

  “You’re too stubborn, Yuta.”

  “ _You’re_ too stubborn,” Yuta bites back.

  “You can’t think everybody has to butter you up,” Taeyong says, “No matter how much I want to please you, I have had enough. Tell me how to treat you.”

  It seems to pull a trigger in Yuta, and Yuta seethes at his words.The strings in his mind snap all at once, and it is as if all the air is punched out of his lungs. “You don’t know how to treat me? _Do you think I do?_ ” Yuta yells at him, “You _think_ I just accepted the fact you marked me! It doesn’t mean I automatically welcome it all when I don’t talk about it!” He glares at Taeyong, chest rising and falling heavily.

  “I have my own life! You just randomly barged into it, and now you’re trying to tell me what to do! I’m always the bad guy, however I say this to anyone, I’m _always_ the bad guy!” He starts to cry uncontrollably, tears running down his cheeks. He tries continue yelling but it comes out as a breathless sob. “I don’t know how to express myself but it doesn’t mean I don’t have any feelings about this!”

 _“You_ don’t understand what it is like to wake up and suddenly everything is wrong and you belong to somebody you don’t know like a _plaything_!” Yuta says in between his sobs, “I don’t know how you expected me to take it, but I’m telling you now very honestly because I have never done so: _I feel scared and vulnerable and I’m weak and helpless!_  To you this might be something you can apologize and be forgiven for, but to me it’s very different! And nobody understands that because this is all very simple and you marked me, _and I’m your omega!_ _Yours!_  Because I don’t mean anything to myself and it’s okay because you don’t mean any harm to me! Because you assume that I will _like_ you!”

  Yuta gulps for air, and all the things he had never been able to say seem to slip so easily out of his mouth today. He wipes his eyes roughly with the back of his hand, feeling exposed and powerless. “I am my own person,” He starts again, but quieter this time, to the point where his voice is barely audible. “And I don’t think people recognize that. Yes, I’ll say you do put in a lot of effort into this. But have you ever thought about the fact that you’re an alpha and I’m an omega? That there _is_ a difference even though you can say it doesn’t matter? That you can have anybody else if you’re not pleased with me and I will be your mate forever? That you can leave me anytime easily, and not seeing you around of so long only solidifies that fear? _Do you think about me? That I’ll never get to know what it is like for me to feel that somebody loves me enough and I’ll tell them, it’s okay for you to have me?_ ”

  “I know you mean well when you try to get close to me.” Taeyong freezes on the spot, the look Yuta giving him too piteous and bare. He’d wanted him to be honest, but now he cannot find it in himself to appreciate what Yuta is telling him. Maybe what he’d assumed was Yuta’s unyielding pride is rubbing off on him, and he will never admit it, but _he doesn’t know this_. Suddenly, he is reminded that everybody is weak, and even Yuta is, even though it had never occurred to him that he is. Perhaps he had been the one who wasn’t understanding enough.

   _He’s not too proud to accept me_ , Taeyong thinks, his heart sinking, _He is downright scared of me_. It feels as though he had been trying too hard for something but at the very end realize that he hadn’t been on the right track all this time. Defeat. _And the only thing I’ve been doing… is pushing him towards something he doesn’t want to accept… am I?_

  Yuta never meets his eyes, staring at anywhere else. “I know you mean well,” he says, his voice small and upset. “So I can’t help but be conflicted. So I can’t bring myself to blame you entirely. So I try to act strong in front of you. Because I’m not. I’m not strong enough to just accept you. I didn’t know that would make you feel like I’m not trying.” Yuta pauses, pursing his lips, tears rolling down from his round eyes. “I’m just going to let you know that I try, but you can’t see it. I think of the good things about you and I think of them a lot of times.” Yuta tries to blink the tears in his eyes away, not wanting to cry anymore. He shrugs, as if he is giving up, and Taeyong thinks it is the most terrible thing he has ever seen. “Maybe I’m not trying hard enough when I try to forget that you are the reason why I am always somebody else’s and not mine.”

  Yuta licks his lips nervously and laughs, his laughter dry and stark. Taeyong hates himself, but he can change nothing. “Do you hate me, so you need to jump the first alpha you see? Somebody who isn’t me?” Taeyong asks, and the moment it leaves his mouth he recognizes how insensible it is and immediately regrets it.

  Yuta draws in a visibly shaky breath. “I-If I wanted to,” Yuta swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing but he still tries to set his jaw in his stubbornness that Taeyong likes to call him out for. It is both frustrating and heartbreaking. “I could have done that a long time ago.”

  Taeyong’s harsh words light up a spark in Yuta’s eyes again, challenging, as if Yuta had found a new way to rationalize why he should hate him. The Yuta that had seemed powerless a few moments ago seemed to vanish into thin air to be replaced by a testing smirk that Taeyong now knows is fake, but it is still arduous when Taeyong wants to tell him not to pretend anymore. The door is closed again, and Yuta is still piecing his strong facade back together. “Unlike you, I’m not rash,” Yuta says, “I won’t settle for somebody like me.” There are so many mixed feelings and hidden meanings in his words Yuta is surprised at himself as well. He holds his ground, because he should. Because he still can’t give himself up just yet.

  Taeyong growls, the sound soft but imposing. Yuta’s eyes are still wet with tears but he looks like he’s mended himself already and recovered to be that snarky Yuta he knows. But _he isn’t_. Taeyong still can’t wrap his mind around the fact that Yuta isn’t as confident as he seems, but he reminds himself. Still, the thought of seeing somebody holding his mate and even touching him in places he shouldn’t makes him seethe with rage.

  “You hate me, don’t you?”

  Yuta doesn’t speak regarding that matter. He doesn’t, but he wants to say he does. “I hate you,” he decides finally, speaking as if he is tasting the words in his mouth. _What do I hate him for? For marking me? Leaving me alone without a moment’s notice? Which?_

  “If you hate me,” Taeyong says, taking his words the wrong way and smiling pointedly, “Then I should get lost, shouldn’t I?”

  Yuta grits his teeth at the implication. _Like he already did_. Taeyong’s eyes are hard and cold. “No love lost,” he manages to say back at it, “I don’t care about you.”

  Taeyong laughs out loud, a short, hurt sound. “This time I have your permission, right?” He asks ironically, “Right, because I think I need to inform my mate?”

   _Your mate_ , Yuta spits venomously. “You do,” Yuta says, all the turmoil swallowed and his voice comes out clear and triumphant, “You do.” He strides to his room and slams the door shut, leaving Taeyong alone in the living room. _I bared my whole heart to you_ , he thinks, sitting down behind the door and curling up on himself. _I’m so scared. But you still won’t understand how hard it is for me. You can leave for all you want_.

-

  In the end he slinks out of his room and he is about to ask Taeyong timidly if he can help him out.

  Taeyong pushes his chair and stands up with a loud sound and scrambles backwards when he detects his state. “I’ll- I- I’m going to leave,” he says, “until your heat is over, okay?”

  Yuta’s face scrunches up in disbelief. “What,” he says softly, “Are you really _l_ _eaving_?”

  “I’m sorry, Yuta. I think this is for the best,” he says, bowing his head. “I think, if both of us aren’t- I’m sorry and I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want anymore.”

  “I don’t- fuck,” Yuta says, giving up his attempt to explain. “Don’t come back then.” His stubbornness gets the best of him and he glares at Taeyong. “You’re leaving,” he scoffs, “Not when I told you to. But you decide you want to do that, when I tell you I need you.”

  “You don’t need me.” Yuta suddenly blanches at his words, but he tilts his chin up and frowns instead.

  “You’re right. Leave.” He tells Taeyong, who stops in his tracks abruptly. Taeyong looks at him with a concerned expression and he hates it. It was like he was pitying him. In a corner of his brain, he does want him to. _If you care about me, don’t leave_ , the little voice says, and Yuta grimaces trying to push it to somewhere he can’t hear it. Maybe… maybe he knows he is upset, maybe he knows he is trying to hide it.

  Taeyong is so close, and he longs for his alpha, who is denying him. His natural instinct should be to reach out for him, but his cursed mouth says, “It’s okay” in the most irritating manner. “Maybe any other person can be better than you.” He watches Taeyong’s lip twitch and for a moment it seems like Taeyong wants to eat him up.

  As if he can’t lose the fight, Taeyong bites back at him. “You went to that filthy place, almost had sex with somebody you didn’t know when you are so close to your heat. I can’t believe it, _Yuta_.” He spits his name like it’s poison and Yuta flinches. It hurts.

  “Maybe I really can have somebody better than you,” Taeyong sneers, and it hits too close to home.

  “You can. You can. So can I, even though I _can’t_ . It makes no difference to me if it’s you or anybody else,” Yuta hisses. He slams the door shut just for the sake of it, and throws a punch on it in frustration. His knuckles are red and swelling, they hurt but he can still feel the pain in his chest. _Go away_ , he tells it, _I don’t need you_. Yuta growls in frustration and looks out of the peephole. _He actually left_ , he thinks. _Fuck me_.

  He fumbles through the drawer for his suppressants but he thinks it might be too late to take them now. Panicking isn’t helping but he can’t stop himself, and he almost drops the pills when he finds them. It’s been stashed away for so long, and it’s because- _Fuck, Taeyong_. He doesn’t know if he is shaking because of anger anymore, but it doesn’t matter now.

  In hindsight, both of them just really, really wanted the other to ask them to stay again. _What if we had both been more honest?_


	14. Chapter 14

  The suppressants don’t do much, but it forces his heat down a little, at least for now. Yuta manages to fall asleep after squirming restlessly on his sheets, a thin layer of sweat on his body. Yuta dreams of Taeyong, and it is terrible. He touches the red-purple bruise on his jaw while Taeyong looks anywhere but him.

   _“Taeyong,” he says, whining like he doesn’t normally dare to. “I won’t do it again.” He bites his lip to contain an upset sound. Taeyong has his hands curled into fists, resting on his lap, and Yuta wishes he did something with it._

_He crowds into Taeyong’s space, pulling Taeyong’s arms around himself. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper._

_“No,” Taeyong says, “_ I’m _sorry. I don’t think I have the right to hold anything against you. Besides, you aren’t doing anything wrong, are you?” His words are scalding and his eyes cold, but at least he is looking at him now. “Who am I to think that way?”_

_“Taeyong.” Yuta grips the lapels of his jacket. He has never felt so helpless against anyone. And Taeyong has always been the one to approach him, and this emotionless and uncaring Taeyong is too much of a stranger. “Stop it.” Yuta grinds out between his teeth, shaking him. “Taeyong. I said I’m sorry. Taeyong!”_

_“What are you apologizing for?” He asks, stoic. “Why do you need to apologize?” Yuta opens his mouth to protest, but Taeyong beats him to it. “What are we?”_

_Yuta closes his mouth consciously. The air is silent and Yuta never thought Taeyong would say what he did out of a million things he could have._ Exactly _,_ _Taeyong’s eyes seem to say at his hesitation, and Yuta feels a lump form in his throat._

_Yuta doesn’t want to, but it’s his turn to answer this question. He should. “You- You’re my mate,” he stutters, unexplainably anxious. He licks his lips, eyeing Taeyong nervously. “...Aren’t you?” Yuta doesn’t know why he is doubting himself. Perhaps he knows he isn’t good enough for Taeyong._

_“My al-alpha.” It’s the first time he’s ever addressed Taeyong like this, and he swears Taeyong’s fists tightened. “Alpha,” he calls him, even though people don’t do that anymore. “I’m your omega.”_

_Yuta feels his tears slide down his cheeks involuntarily, and he thinks maybe Taeyong will know he is trying. Taeyong doesn’t move a muscle, and Yuta’s panic grows by the second. In the end Taeyong runs a troubled hand through his own hair, looking away._

_“And I’m… sorry for that,” he says. Taeyong looks down, and Yuta wishes he didn’t. He doesn’t know what it means. Maybe Taeyong is regretting it. Maybe he thinks Yuta rejects their relationship. Maybe everything is an accident like how it most likely is, and Taeyong doesn’t want him at all. Maybe this is all a misunderstanding and if he had been more accepting everything would have worked out._

_“I’m sorry,” he says again, and it only makes Yuta cry harder._

_“Taeyong,” he sobs, “Don’t be sorry.” He crawls onto his lap, and curls up like a baby. Taeyong does not hold him. Yuta rests his head in the crook of his neck and shoulder and Taeyong’s scent is overpowering, making his head swim._ Hold me _, he thinks,_ please _._

_It’s the coldest and most insecure he has been around Taeyong and he can’t get used to it. He is scared, and it’s not because of anyone else. He doesn’t want to say it with mixed reasons anymore, and it’s not because he doesn’t know how to break it to his parents if it happened, and it’s not because it looks bad. He is afraid, from the bottom of his heart, and he is terribly afraid. Taeyong might leave him for good._

_“Taeyong,” he whimpers, and shivers despite his body temperature. Taeyong doesn’t answer. “Taeyong,” he hiccups between his words, chest heaving, “Taeyong!”_

_“Taeyong!” He yells, his voice hoarse and thick with mucus. Taeyong lets out a long exhale that probably should have come out as a sigh. He fixes Yuta with a simple, neutral gaze. It knocks the breath out of him. “Taeyong- Taeyong,” he says, barely audible and masked by his teary sobs. He looks down, unable to meet his eyes. “Don’t leave. D-don’t leave me.”_

_He inhales sharply, he’s finally said it and he deserves to cry. He feels the tears surging up again, and he covers his face with his hands. Yuta full out bawls, his chest rising and falling heavily, and he thinks he is so loud the whole world can hear him. His head buzzes with white noise, and he doesn’t know if Taeyong will care._

  Yuta wakes up gasping for air like he has just surfaced after being forced underwater. He feels drenched and pathetic, and he wipes his face with the back of his hands. He’s still crying. _Taeyong_ , he thinks, and he laughs out loud, broken. He can feel his body burning up, and he knows it won’t really help anymore to take the suppressants. Still, he grabs the blister packet beside the bed and takes two of the pills, popping out a third one for good measure.

   _I must be out of my mind_ , he thinks when he flushes it down with a cup of water. He pulls tissues from the box, blowing his nose loudly. _I’m so fucking weak_. Yuta unlocks his phone and there are two unread messages, one from Taeyong and one from Ten.

 **_TY [Wednesday 17:34]:_ ** _My plane just touched down, where you at?_

 **_Ten [15:40]:_ ** _You forgot to tell us when you left that day. Are you okay? Care to tell me what Taeyong is worrying all about? I just went to their office and he’s been looking at me all day as if I know something he doesn’t._

  Yuta checks the time. It’s a quarter to ten at night which means his sleeping schedule is ruined again. Ten’s message was received six hours earlier.  _He’ll just have more reasons to fret when he knows_ , he decides, closing the app. _I’ll get back to them later_.

  Yuta lies on his stomach and rolls back over again, the pressure only making him more uncomfortable. It feels like his regular stomach ache but ten times worse. He bundles up his blanket and holds it close to himself. There is a familiar feeling surging in his abdomen and he squeezes his eyes shut. _Sleep. I need to sleep._

-

  Taeyong scrubs his hair more vigorously, as if he could wash away his thoughts. His body itches for Yuta, and he can’t stop it. Ever since he came home from Yuta’s three days ago everything in the world seemed to make their purpose reminding Taeyong of him. _I can’t take back what I said_ , he thinks, _can I?_

  He steps out of the shower, still feeling uneasy. He unlocks his phone, and decides against it again with a sigh. He should call to see if Yuta is okay. But if he did, he is sure he would leave the house at once for him.

  Taeyong throws his phone onto his bed, and it bounces on the mattress. _Not now_ , he thinks. He isn’t ready.

-

  What makes everything worse is Johnny, who is constantly on the topic of Yuta. Taeyong has been really out of it these few days, and considering he hasn’t been out in forever, Johnny can safely deduce it’s because of his mate.

  Johnny doesn’t know anything except Taeyong brought Yuta home that day. He reckons they’ve made up, because Taeyong is good at that kind of thing.

  He pesters Taeyong with questions like “How is Yuta doing?” and “Are you guys coming along fine?” and it escalates to “Is this like the not-seeing-each-other thing people do before they get married?” like he is trying to hint at something.

  Taeyong makes a frustrated sound. “We are not on good terms right now, okay?”

  “Huh, didn’t you guys talk?”

  Taeyong visibly deflates. “Yeah,” he says, “But I’m a dumbass.”

  “Oh no, you gotta win him back, Taeyong,” Johnny pats Taeyong’s shoulder, “Did you text him? Or try to call him?”

  “No, I-”

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t been doing anything,” Johnny says, a little worried because Taeyong is trying to hide a guilty expression.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Taeyong explains, and Johnny covers his mouth dramatically.

  “Dude,” his voice comes out muffled, “You’ll have to, or he’ll never come back to you.” Taeyong opens his mouth to object, but Johnny cuts him off. “I’ve been through this.”

   _But Yuta isn’t Ten_ , he wants to say, _and I am not you._

-

  Yuta collapses back into his bed after a cold shower. It can’t douse the flames in the pit of his stomach but at least it makes him feel better on the outside. He keeps on sweating, and the suppressants are only helping so much. He didn’t know showering can drain so much energy out of a person.

  He can’t seem to focus on anything except the growing desire in the pit of his stomach, but he doesn’t want to touch himself. It feels weird, and it feels dirty. And he doesn’t really want anything other than Taeyong.

  Yuta keeps on slipping in and out of his consciousness. He grips the corner of his blanket tightly and aims the remote at the air conditioner, turning the temperature down several degrees at once. He grits his teeth and decides that he hates everything.

_Taeyong turns him around and grabs him by his hips. “Hands on the wall,” he orders, and Yuta braces himself obediently. He pushes his cock in between Yuta’s legs, earning a breathless whine from him._

_“Inside,” Yuta pleads, rolling his hips. “Please.”_

_“Do you deserve that?” Taeyong asks, “Have you been good?”_

_Yuta sniffs and shakes his head honestly, and Taeyong seems to soften at that.  He makes Yuta turn around and runs a hand through his hair. Yuta takes advantage of Taeyong’s hesitation and he drops down to his knees, taking his cock in his fist. Yuta sticks out his tongue and licks the tip, earning a groan from Taeyong._

_“Yuta,” he growls, and he doesn’t know if it’s out of pleasure or frustration. “What are you doing?” he asks, even though it is clear as day he’s trying to make up for being bad with a blowjob._

_Yuta likes to think he knows what he is doing. He has no real experience, and Taeyong’s scent is so heavy it is almost choking. He sucks on the crown, trying to do what he’s seen in adult videos. Yuta swirls his tongue over the slit, tasting the bitter precum._

_He pulls back nervously and licks his lips, looking up and accidentally making eye contact with Taeyong. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he tells him quietly, “Sorry if I’m no good.”_

_Taeyong doesn’t say a thing, and only looks at him intently with furrowed brows. Yuta shuffles closer, and tries to take in as much of his length as he can. He almost chokes around it, even so he’s only got half of it in his mouth, and he wonders how people manage to give a decent blowjob. Tears form at the corner of his eyes and it stings. He sucks pathetically without any skill, making up for the parts he can’t reach with his hands._

_Yuta circles his fingers at the base of Taeyong’s cock, and runs his tongue to the tip. He pops it out of his mouth with a loud sound, then kisses the crown and tries again, shuddering when it hits the back of his throat. He whimpers at the weight on his tongue, and Taeyong grunts as it vibrates through him. “Fuck, Yuta,” he says, when he bobs his head, occasionally pulling away with strings of saliva at his mouth._

_His moans encourage Yuta to suck on it even more lewdly, using his tongue and grazing his teeth lightly alternately. Taeyong’s knot starts to form, and Yuta’s rubs it with the pad of his fingers, dragging them slowly and teasingly. “I’m going to come, Yuta,” he tells him, “Stop- ”_

_“No, here,” Yuta says around his cock, opening his mouth and it comes out hardly recognizable as words. He sucks on him hard. “Here.”_

_Taeyong can barely make out what he is saying. “You don’t have to.” Yuta doesn’t respond, and chooses to work harder, and Taeyong thinks his inexperience and erratic pace in itself is a turn on._

_When he does come he does it without warning, and tears well up in Yuta’s eyes at the sudden stimulation. Pearly white drip down his chin, hot and sticky. His mouth is still half open when Taeyong draws out of him, like he is in a daze._

_“Do you know what you look like right now?” Taeyong asks, “I want to take a picture of you.”_

_Yuta nods, and Taeyong obviously did not expect it. “It’s going to make me hard every time I look at it,” he says, and Yuta nods again._

_“No,” Taeyong says, “Not if I can see this all the time.”_

_Yuta only nods again and swallows, the mouthful going down his throat in a weird but not unpleasant way. Taeyong he wipes his chin with a thumb, using one hand to cup his cheek. “Hey, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to do this.”_

_Yuta laughs inwardly at his concerned expression. One moment he can be so cold, the other…_ _well, isn’t this the Taeyong he knows. An idea springs up in his head, and he leans closer to Taeyong. He keeps his eyes hooded, and sticks out his tongue to lick Taeyong’s fingers. Slowly, he brings it back into his mouth, all messy and deliberate._

_“Am I good now?” he asks lowly, and watches Taeyong’s pupils dilate._

_"Listen,” Taeyong growls, and for the first time, Yuta doesn’t find it scary, “You’re_ mine _. Nobody else’s.” He pulls Yuta up, his knees a bit wobbly from kneeling too long._

_Yuta hums in agreement, and Taeyong sucks on the skin at the back of his neck, teeth grazing over his mark possessively. “You’re mine,” he says, sending a shiver down Yuta’s spine, “Only mine.”_

_Yuta makes a helpless sound, his legs giving way under him. Taeyong catches him and holds him against himself._

  Yuta springs up, his shirt and pants soaked through. He breathes in and out heavily, alert but his eyelids are still drooping. He curls up on himself in shame, clutching his stomach.

   _It’s not like I have never had a wet dream before_. But this is  _embarrassing_.

   _I want him_. Yuta admits self-consciously.

   _My alpha_ , he reminds himself, _Afterall, he is my alpha_.

  It is as if he’s lost, so Yuta pushes his pants down by the waistband, and stuffs two fingers into himself, making a scissoring motion to loosen his muscles. His breath hitches in his throat when he thinks of Taeyong prepping him, and _God_ , he is terrible and helpless.

  It had felt so different when Taeyong was here. He had somebody to hold him and pet his hair when he demands it. Taeyong would ask if he was okay even though it was obvious he’s not, turn down the air-con even though it was probably freezing for him, and smother him with his scent.

  He can’t explain how needy he feels right now, but Yuta only wishes Taeyong was right here.

-

  Taeyong wakes up, sweating all over. _Yuta. What is this feeling…? It’s Yuta, isn’t it?_

  He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down, try to slow down his rapid heartbeat. _Shit_ , he thinks, feeling the anxious knot in his stomach. _This is not good._

  Yuta is probably feeling terrible right now. Taeyong isn’t sure how much of Yuta’s emotions he is feeling, but it is enough to give him a good idea of how pained he must be.

   _No no no no no._ Taeyong puts a hand over his chest, but the suffocating cloud doesn’t fade away. He reaches for the phone and unlocks it, hesitating a bit before dialling a familiar number he has only called five times or less.

  Taeyong grabs the front of his shirt, already wide awake even though it’s only been a minute since he was jolted from his slumber. He waits for Yuta to pick up his phone, but the tone seems to never end.

   _Pick up_ , he thinks, _You better pick up or else._ He starts to grow restless and uneasy when he tries calling for the third time, and nobody is answering.

  Taeyong sucks in a cold breath and looks at the time. 03:37. _He’s probably just having a bad dream_ , he tells himself. _Don’t worry. He’s just having a bad dream._

  He scoffs at himself a little. _Who would be up at such a late hour?_ Taeyong puts his phone down on the bedside table again and shuffles back into his blankets. He feels a bit better now, so Yuta must be feeling a bit better as well. Taeyong rolls over and closes his eyes, trying to go back to sleep. _It’s no use for me to worry anyway._

  After a while, Taeyong sighs and rolls over again, unplugging his phone from the charger and putting it next to his pillow. Johnny’s voice immediately surfaces in his mind, blabbering on about radioactivity but Taeyong chooses to ignore it. He is more scared of missing a callback.

-

  Yuta can feel his heat subsiding slowly, and he has never ever felt so relieved in his entire life. The past five days were the worst five days he has experienced.

   _I need to wash up_ , he thinks, making a list in his head while lying limply in bed. _Change the sheets, eat something. And call Ten._

  He feels way better after taking a shower this time, and he quickly changes the sheets before his body decides to work against him again. His stomach still hurts, and he reckons it’s because he didn’t eat much. But maybe not. It feels a little weird and it hurts in a place that is usually unaffected by his sickness. It might be Yuta’s imagination, or his heat playing with him, but he thinks it hurts much more than usual.

   _I’ll get something to eat after this_ , he thinks. He pulls out the hoodie he had worn that day, but Taeyong was right- he reeked of somebody else. He throws it into the washing machine and digs in his drawer for more Taeyong’s clothes that he had never returned, bringing it to the bed and draping it over his pillow.

  He hadn’t allowed himself to do that, but today he can’t help himself anymore. He brings it out to the living room because he can’t stand being confined in the same walls as five days ago anymore and settles on the couch. Yuta hugs it and buries his face in the fabric, ashamed of this makeshift dakimakura but it satiates all his wants right now.

  It smells only faintly of Taeyong, but it feels like he has found an oasis in the middle of the desert and he clings onto it, wanting more, more, though he knows he is asking for too much. _Please come back and get me_ , Yuta thinks, _I want you back_. It might all be an illusion but Yuta thinks he feels more secure when Taeyong is around him, because his gaze is always warm and he might be the only person in the world who looks at Yuta that way.

  Yuta turns on the TV to distract himself from the pain, but he can’t seem to focus on the characters. He changes the channel and watches a variety show instead, but laughing makes him feel worse so he switches to an animal documentary and leaves it as background noise.

   _Maybe I should really go eat something_ , Yuta thinks. Strangely, he doesn’t feel very hungry and he should be, considering the fact that he hasn’t been taking care of himself well these few days.

  He throws on Taeyong’s shirt over his and limps to the kitchen, trying his best to stand up straight. _Ramen it is_ , he decides. As if he knows how to make anything else. Yuta makes a small portion since he doesn’t really have a good appetite right now, and brings the entire pot outside to eat out of it.

   _What the fuck_ , he hisses when he swallows the noodles, and a burning pain sears through his stomach. In the end, he finds eating a pain, and he dumps the leftovers in the garbage, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

  He pops two pills from their blister pack and downs them with a gulp of water, then realizes he hadn’t been taking the right ones. _Those are my suppressants._ He doesn’t even have the heart or the strength to get mad at himself for being dumb, and he rummages in the drawer for his antacids.

  Yuta lies in bed for a while, then decides he can’t take it anymore. He fumbles for his phone to call Ten, then finds it dead. He pulls the charger cord closer and plugs it in, plopping back down on the bed, his mind mush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys I'm sorry for the wait  
> It took me so long to write a certain part because I'm not good at being explicit and it was so draining  
> Couldn't half-ass it though  
> The next chapter should be up tomorrow since I don't want you to wait too long :33


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an extra-long chapter because you guys deserve it

  When Ten finally does get his call it is two days later. Ten storms from Johnny’s room to Taeyong’s, slamming down a set of keys.

  He looks like he’s about to cry and Taeyong stares in confusion, taken aback by the sudden hostility. “Lee Taeyong,” he says, angry and breathless. “I’m giving you one more chance and if you’re not going to do this right-”

  “Calm down, Ten,” Taeyong says, feeling uneasy at the pheromones the omega is giving off. “What happened?”

  “Yuta said-” Taeyong looks up so quickly he feels like his neck will snap. Ten pauses as if he doesn't know if he should say it, but he spills the beans anyway. “He’s not feeling well, and he took his meds and he still doesn’t feel better. Said he might go to the hospital to have a checkup. Asked for you, and asked me not to tell you.”

  Taeyong picks up the keys, and he has never run so fast in his entire life.

-

  Taeyong follows Yuta into his room, and Yuta crawls back into bed, groaning.

  “Yuta, you have to tell me, or else I’ll never know,” Taeyong says, squatting next to his bed so they are at eye level, “Do you want me here or not?”

  Yuta hates himself. He does want to remain indifferent, but reality gives him no choice. “Stay,” he tells Taeyong, his voice coming out weak and pathetic and very unlike anything Yuta imagined himself to be.

  Taeyong sits down next to him and the bed dips. He strokes Yuta’s hair comfortingly, and wipes the beads of sweat forming at his forehead. “Are you alright, love?” he asks, even though he can see how much pain Yuta is in. He doesn’t really know how else to show Yuta that he cares about him.

  “Don’t call me that,” Yuta wheezes, still trying to act strong. Taeyong kneads the sheets hard, desperately wanting to stop him from talking like that.

  He puts a warm hand around the back of Yuta’s neck. “I’m sorry,” he tells him, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

  The moment Yuta opened the door and his features drooped in disappointment, he knew should have stayed that night. It pained him more than knowing he was expecting Ten to see Yuta clutching his stomach and collapsing onto his bed, not even paying heed to why he was here. Taeyong had rushed here but found the door bolted, and he abused the doorbell until Yuta finally decided to show up.

  And he’d looked so upset and pained, Taeyong has no idea why he had the heart to leave him. He took one look at Taeyong, and he seemed surprised, dispirited, everything, all at once. But he didn’t say a word and dragged himself back to his room, and it is as if he thought _I can’t believe I got out of bed for this._

  Taeyong watches the rim of Yuta’s eyes redden, and bows his head in shame. Yuta turns his head to the side, so Taeyong can’t see him cry. Taeyong reaches out and wipes his tears with a finger. _He’s so beautiful_ , he thinks, _How_ _did I decide to let him hurt on his own?_

  Not listening to Yuta’s objections, Taeyong leans down and presses himself against Yuta, pulling him into his chest as if he could knead them together. “Do you hate me?” He finds himself asking, pushing the heel of his hand into Yuta’s back.

  Yuta whimpers in pain, and Taeyong finally loosens his grip a little. He feels Yuta slowly stop struggling in his arms. Yuta’s chest heaves heavily against his with a heartbreaking sob, and Taeyong kisses his neck over and over, hoping he would take it as an act of comfort, “I do want you, no joke,” he tells him, running fingers through his hair.

  “What do you want?” Yuta asks, a little breathless, not even having enough strength to shake off his hand.

  Taeyong clasps both hands around his, suddenly serious. “I don’t want this to sound like anything it is not,” he says, “but I want nothing more than to protect you from everything bad.” He gulps before continuing, “I’ve been thinking, you know? About this. About… us. I have to admit, this was an accident at first, and it is my fault. I want to apologize to you for making this choice on my own, but whenever I do it I know you feel like I am trying to push you away. But that isn’t what I want to do, okay?”

  Yuta’s chest hurts and he pretends he doesn’t know why, trying to bury his face into the pillow. “Look at me, Yuta,” Taeyong says, the timbre of his voice striking him in the softest part of his heart. “I’m sorry I’ve been distant, I needed some time, and I forgot the most important thing is to stay with you, so if you would kindly accept my apology for this…” He waits for an answer, and Yuta wants to hit him for being so civil, or just because he is angry, he doesn’t know.

  “Whatever,” he says, closing his eyes, because he doesn’t really know what else he could have said. Taeyong tucks him in more securely, proceeding to sit on the side of the bed and stroke his hair.

  “You can stay mad at me,” he says lowly, “but I wish you weren’t so cold. I don’t know what’s okay and what’s not okay, and I need you to show me.”

  Yuta stays still with his eyes closed, trying to act like he didn’t hear what Taeyong said. But then Taeyong had to ruin it.

  “Your parents hate me, don’t they,” he says, his voice suddenly deeper and laced with worry.

  Yuta bites the inside of his cheeks, finally returning the strength in Taeyong’s grip because he doesn’t know where else to find comfort from. He brings his hand close to his chest and hugs his arm like his life depends on it. “I hate you,” Yuta says, “I hate you.”

  “I have never lied to them so much.”

-

  Yuta rushes to the bathroom to throw up, and there isn’t much in his digestive system because he didn’t eat much the last few days. There is a bit of blood in his vomit and he has gotten used to it, but Taeyong is shocked.

  “Yuta,” he says, horrified, “Are you okay?”

   _Shut up_ , he thinks, _Of course I’m not._

  “I’m fine,” he squeezes out, standing up too quickly and for a moment everything is black.

  He feels weak and dizzy and Taeyong lets him lean on him. He can still taste the bile in his mouth and the unpleasant tinge of iron. Yuta lies limply in Taeyong’s arms. _Why am I so weak_ _whenever he’s around?_ Still, he waves his hand like it is nothing. “I’m fine,” he says.

  He doesn’t want to show this side of himself to Taeyong, so vulnerable and helpless and it’s his worst side. But Taeyong puts a hand on his stomach like he is a baby. “Here?” he asks, even though it doesn’t help, his hand is warm and for a moment Yuta thinks that’s enough. Yuta shakes his head, dragging him by his finger towards the left, and settling right below his ribcage.

  “Here,” he says, sniffing.

-

  “Lee Taeyong?” Taeyong nods, licking his lips nervously when the doctor comes up to him.

  He had managed to convince Yuta to get into his car, and Yuta had fallen asleep halfway to the hospital. Taeyong still doesn’t know why he had been so oblivious, but when he tried to wake Yuta up when they reached their destination he didn’t wake up no matter how hard he shook him.

  Needless to say, Taeyong panicked. He had never been the best at dealing with these situations, but helpfully, they were right at the hospital and the nurses calmed him down.

  “He has peptic ulcers and there is internal bleeding,” she says, “His blood sugar is low, which is why he fainted. I’m glad you sent him here because this can actually be fatal if worse.”

  “He hasn’t been sleeping or eating well,” the doctor tells him. “He needs to eat, even though I understand that it hurts. He’s fine now, but I need to inform you there will be a chance he might need surgical treatment if his condition worsens.”

  “Don’t let him smoke or drink, and refrain from using any medication without doctors' prescription.” She taps her clipboard. “Does he regularly take suppressants?”

  “I th- think so,” Taeyong stammers, startled by how she suddenly brought the subject of his guilt up.

  “I was away for a while,” he lies, and it’s not entirely wrong. He doesn’t know why he feels the need to explain to her, but she is not listening.

  “I hope he will not be taking so many suppressants in the future. Overdosing will be a very serious problem. Is there any other medication he is currently on?”

-

  When he finally escapes from the disapproving gaze, Ten and Johnny are with Yuta.

  “It isn’t that serious,” Yuta says, not wanting anyone to worry about him like always.

  “This _is_ serious!” Ten exclaims, “You’re hospitalized!”

  Johnny laughs at them as if he has seen this a thousand times. “Ugh,” Yuta says, “I fainted like a little girl.”

  “You aren’t making any sense right now, Yuta,” Johnny tells him, “Even big burly men in their thirties faint. It just tells us that you weren’t taking care of yourself. You should have called us earlier.”

  Taeyong watches Yuta, who avoids eye contact with him. Ten has a hand around his, and Taeyong wishes he could do that too. “Anyway, I got a new console, Yuta,” he says, his voice sweet like it always is, and that seems to cheer Yuta up. “Come over sometime soon.”

  “I will,” Yuta says, taking a sip of the soup and spluttering when it's still too hot.

  “Watch out,” Taeyong says, handing him the spoon, but Yuta stiffens the moment he makes a move. Taeyong’s hand lingers awkwardly, and he puts it down beside his bowl. He meets Johnny’s eyes and he seems to pity Taeyong for a bit.

  Johnny beckons Taeyong. “Can I talk to you?” Johnny asks, “Outside?”

  “Ten was worried sick,” he says, closing the door behind him.

  “Yeah,” he says uselessly, “I know.”

  “ _I_ was worried sick.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “He didn’t tell us anything, you know. We didn’t know what was going on with you two at all. And we certainly didn’t know you’ve fallen apart like that.” Johnny pats Taeyong on his shoulder. “I wasn’t only worried about him. I mean, if it makes you feel better, he does like you, I think. Or else he wouldn’t keep everything to himself.”

  “Ten likes you, don’t make him change his mind. I’ve been- telling him good shit about you.” Johnny says, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie.

  “Thanks,” Taeyong says, not really knowing what to make of the situation. His mind is roaring with white noise and he can’t think properly. Yuta is probably feeling as bad as he is. He knows, because he can’t deny the fact that they are mated and he can feel to an extent what Yuta is experiencing.

  “Don’t thank me. You’re my best friend.”

  Taeyong gives him a look, a little discouraged. Johnny scoffs. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. Yuta will come along fine, just give him a bit of time to warm up to you. He’s the most reserved person I know. It took him a year to acknowledge me as Ten’s boyfriend.”

  “I hope that actually does happen,” Taeyong laughs soullessly. “You know I got mad at him for not being responsive, and it’s probably why we are like this now. I mean, I haven’t been the most understanding person.”

  They lounge outside for a while, wanting to give the two omegas space. Johnny leans back and rests his head on the wall, his arms crossed. “I’ve never really seen you appear so perturb over something,” he says, “That might be a good sign.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, maybe you finally care about somebody?”

  “I care about you, you asshole.”

-

  The door opens and Ten peeks out. “Johnny,” he calls, “Do you want to say goodbye to Yuta? We’re leaving soon.”

  Johnny looks at his watch. “Yeah, right, I will,” he says, pushing himself up from the chair. They leave Taeyong alone in the hallway and he glances around awkwardly, watching out of the corner of his eye how people mill in and out of the other rooms.

   _Yuta… is a baby_ , he thinks, not knowing why. Taeyong wrings his fingers, thinking that he should probably trim his nails. In his closest circle, Yuta has Ten, Johnny, and… him. He doesn’t know any of his other friends. Up to now he still doesn’t know if Yuta considered him to be one of the people that he trusts, but now… probably not.

  Yuta’s family is in Japan. Taeyong has no idea how they communicate or if they even communicate often. All he knows is their dynamics are awkward and weird, even though they love each other. Maybe all rich families are like that. Yuta’s family probably had a future planned out for him, and his mother, his father, even though they might not want that for Yuta, they can’t stop their relatives from expecting any less from their son. _And me,_ he thinks, _If I had been more understanding-_

  “Taeyong,” Ten’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “Johnny and I are leaving.”

  Taeyong scrambles up from his seat, and Ten stares him down. “You’ve been bad to him,” he says accusingly, and Taeyong gulps. “But- but I want him to be happy, so I don’t know if I can hold this against you.”

  He glances at Johnny behind him, who helpfully stays out of earshot. “I mean… please be good to Yuta,” he says, “He is my best friend.”

  Ten looks a little upset and he says it with a pleading tone, making Taeyong guilty. “I’ll try my best, okay?”

- 

  “Yuta,” Taeyong calls softly, but he doesn’t pay heed to him.

  He tries again, and this time Yuta closes his eyes. “Please leave,” he says, “I- I don’t want to see you anymore.” _Yeah_ , he thinks, _You were right. It’s better for both of us this way_.

  “Yuta, do you still hurt?” He asks, trying to make his voice gentler.

  Yuta doesn’t answer him, and Taeyong starts to panic a little. “Yuta,” he says softly, “Stay mad at me for all you want, but please- can you tell me if you’re still hurting?”

  “I don’t need you here. I don’t want you here. I have Ten and Johnny and that’s enough. They’ll come back for me tomorrow and they’ll take me home. I don’t need you.” Yuta says all of it in one breath as if he had been practising. He sounds strangely like a child, and it makes Taeyong very conscious of his own words

  “Did you… did you put me as your emergency contact?” Taeyong asks instead, and Yuta stops ruffling his sheets. The room grows deathly silent.

  Taeyong sees him set his jaw, and he opens his mouth to speak but Yuta beats him to it. “I will change it,” he says with an air of finality. “Don’t worry.” He lies down and pulls the blanket over himself, turning so his back is facing Taeyong.

  “Yuta,” Taeyong says, and it dissipates into the air without a response. He places a hand over Yuta’s arm. “Hey.”

  “Stop touching me,” Yuta warns, and Taeyong pulls his hand away, breathing out a sigh.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, “I really am.”

  “You heard me, I don’t want you here.”

  “Yuta, please,” Taeyong leans forward, and the chair creaks. “Yuta, I promise, what I said is a hundred percent sincere.”

  “I don’t remember what you said.” His voice is cold, and Taeyong thinks it’s the most emotionless Yuta has ever been. He walks around the bed to the side Yuta is facing, and Yuta turns again so his back is to Taeyong.

  They do that a couple of times, and finally Yuta gets tired of it.

  “I want to sleep,” he says, closing his eyes. “The doctor said I need to rest.”

  Taeyong grips the edge of the mattress until his knuckles turn white. He keeps his voice as gentle as possible. “Okay then,” he says, “Good night. Sleep tight.”

  Yuta opens an eye for a bit and watches Taeyong stand up. He pulls the blanket over Yuta’s shoulder, and Yuta stiffens. He hears Taeyong leave the room and finally he relaxes, rolling over because he sleeps better on his left side.

   _Not_ because he is waiting for Taeyong to come back. He is pathetic, he thinks.

-

  It’s a few hours later and Yuta still can't fall asleep. Yuta’s phone buzzes with a message, and he watches the screen light up. _Who is up so late?_ He thinks. He decides he can’t sleep either, and reaches for it.

   **_TY [02:13]:_ ** _You must be sleeping but I just want you to know I’ve written and deleted this message a thousand times already: I’m sorry and… please give me one more chance._

  Yuta drops his phone on the mattress, and stares at the ceiling. Out of the corner of his eye, the screen flashes again and he ignores it. “I hate you,” he whispers to nobody in particular. In the end, he gives in to his curiosity and checks the new notification.

   **_TY [02:13]:_ ** _You probably don’t know about this, but I hope this will happen again._

  There is a picture attached and Yuta unlocks his phone, wondering what it is. _Fuck_ , he thinks, _What is this._ It is him, sleeping on his open textbook, mouth slightly open like an idiot. Taeyong is in the photo as well, leaning down behind him with an arm on the table to support himself, and he looks like he just kissed his cheek.

   **_TY [02:13]:_ ** _You don’t know how endearing you are when you don’t put your defences up_

**_TY [02:14]:_ ** _I_

**_TY [02:14]:_ ** _adore_

**_TY [02:14]:_ ** _you_

**_TY [02:14]:_ ** _and I can’t have you thinking otherwise_

**_TY [02:14]:_ ** _I’m sorry I have been on and off, since I didn’t know what was the best for you. I only want you to know that I am sorry, I did this out of good intentions, and I never wanted to hurt you._

  It is silent on the other end for a while, and Yuta grabs the front of his shirt. _Stop it_ , he tells himself, biting his lip. He is scared, and he had wanted to hear this from Taeyong, but now that he’s said it, Yuta only wanted to hide himself in embarrassment. He scrolls up and taps open the picture again, grimacing at his own face. Taeyong’s grin blinds Yuta and he has no idea that he took a picture of him like that.

  It was quite a while ago, judging by the colour of his hair. It is honey brown, and he had that dyed it… two months after he met Taeyong? _Six months ago, then_. Did Taeyong like him so much six months ago?

**_TY [02:15]:_ ** _Now I know what was the worst thing to do, and I know there are no take backs, so will you let me make up for it?_

**_TY [02:15]:_ ** _You have all the reasons in the world to not accept me but_

  Yuta panics when he sees the last message, wanting to stop him before he brings up anything that he regrets saying to Taeyong before when he didn’t know what to do. There are a lot.

   _You woke me up_ , he composes and sends.

-

  Taeyong jumps when he sees that Yuta is typing. He didn’t expect him to still be up since the doctor said he is supposed to rest. His message pops up a second later.

   **_Yuter [02:15]:_ ** _You woke me up_

  Taeyong stands up from his seat, and goes over to push open Yuta’s door. “Hey,” he whispers, “I’m sorry.” Yuta is lying on his side, his face lit up by the screen. He stares when Taeyong walks in, his eyes darting to and fro him. “Go back to sleep.”

  He draws the phone out of Yuta’s hands, and Yuta bites back a displeased noise. Taeyong sets it down on the table, and Yuta crawls after it and snatches it back.

  “You should sleep,” Taeyong says gently, “It’s late.” Yuta promptly ignores him, despite how close he had been to running out to Taeyong. Old habits die hard. Besides, it is mostly because he’s not sure if a sudden volte-face will look weird.

  Yuta looks up at him expectantly, and Taeyong is rendered confused until his phone buzzes.

   **_Yuter [02:22]:_ ** _I don't wanna talk to you_

  Yuta waits for him to reply, and Taeyong almost chuckles. _What is this_ , he thinks, _so adorable_.

   **_You [02:23]:_ ** _Hey love_

**_Yuter [02:23]:_ ** _Never said you can call me that_

**_You [02:23]:_ ** _Are you hungry?_

  Yuta gives him a withering look, but when Taeyong receives the next message, it says _I want a_ _soufflé. Now_. This time Taeyong really laughs out loud.

  “Now?” Taeyong asks, pocketing his phone. Yuta furrows his brows at that, and reluctantly puts down his own as well. He nods, and Taeyong sighs. “Alright,” he says, “I’ll see if I can do that, but don’t get your hopes up just yet.”

  He makes a gesture with his hand to tell Yuta to close his eyes and sleep. Yuta stares at him, unblinking. Taeyong sighs again. “Alright.” He turns to leave and Yuta bites back a whine. _Stupid_ , he thinks, _You stupid, stupid thing. Why would you just-?_

  The door is already half closed and Yuta hisses. “Come back here you dumb-” He stops when Taeyong closes the door entirely. _What. Does he really think I didn’t want him here? Did he not hear me or…?_

  Two seconds later the door opens again. “Just playing with you,” Taeyong says, and Yuta is still frozen. Yuta realizes how much of an idiot he looks like and plops back down onto the bed, turning to the other side. “Hey,” Taeyong pokes his arm, “Are you angry at me?”

  Yuta gives him no reply and Taeyong pulls his chair to the other side of the bed and sits down. This time Yuta doesn’t turn away from him, and Taeyong pumps his fist in his mind.

  “Yuta,” he says, slowly.

  “Hmm?” Yuta answers, and Taeyong shivers at the tone. That little hum sounds endearing as hell, but he doesn’t know if he should trust it.

  He doesn’t know how to start, now that he has Yuta’s attention. “What?” Yuta asks.

  “Well, uh-” Taeyong stutters, “I’ve been- do you actually not remember what I said to you? When you were at home?”

  Yuta tries to sit up but Taeyong hurriedly makes him lie back down, afraid it’s going to hurt him more. “Yes,” Yuta says after hesitating for a while. “I mean, I remember.” His voice is hushed and he looks at Taeyong through half-lidded eyes.

  “Then… do you think I still have a chance?”

   _What do you mean if you still have a chance_ , Yuta thinks, _You- I wanted to ask if you’ll leave me forever._ “What do you mean?” Yuta asks out loud, and Taeyong seems to recognize the uneasiness in it this time.

  “I don’t think you understand, Yuta,” Taeyong says, “I _want_ you as my mate.”

  Yuta looks surprised at the sudden declaration. _He probably didn’t expect me to say it so directly._ Nevertheless, he takes the advantage and continues to press.

  “Let’s try again, Yuta,” Taeyong says. “I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough, but I’ll do my best from now on.”

   _It’s me who’s not good enough_ , Yuta thinks. _I was too proud and stubborn_.

  “So… What do you say?” Taeyong looks at him like he is sure Yuta would say ‘no’. _This can work_ , Yuta thinks, _It wasn’t his fault anyway. Not entirely, at least_.

  Yuta nods, barely. His eyes are fixed on Taeyong’s split bottom lip that is clearly from biting too much.

  Taeyong’s jaw is still bruised but it isn’t showy. Up close like this, Yuta can see it properly and he doesn’t know how to feel.

  “One condition,” Taeyong says, holding up his index finger, “You move in with me.”

  Yuta thinks he must be possessed when he answers, “Okay.” He takes another look at the bruise on Taeyong’s jaw and purses his lips, looking away.

-

  Yuta struggles with his IV and Taeyong helps him move it to their side when he swings his leg off the bed. “If I continue to lie down anymore I’ll become a fossil.”

  “Sore?” Taeyong asks, and Yuta nods. “Where?”

  Yuta points at his shoulder and he must not have expected Taeyong to walk closer so abruptly. He holds out his hands in front of him and they hover there. He is afraid to touch Taeyong, to be honest.

  “W-What are you doing?”

  “Look,” Taeyong says softly, “If you don’t want a back rub you can always hit me.”

  “What- what are you talking about,” Yuta says, lowering his hands embarrassedly.

  “So?”

  “Okay,” Yuta says nervously, not even knowing why he is so anxious.

  Taeyong stands in between his parted legs, his hands gentle on Yuta’s neck and shoulders. He had forgotten that Taeyong is so… warm. Maybe it’s because his body is a little weak at the moment but their body temperatures are too vastly different.

  Taeyong seems to notice it too. “Are you sure you don’t want a jacket? Or go back into the covers?” Yuta shakes his head, feeling the warmth creep up his neck, until Taeyong’s hands are cupping his face. “Tell me if you don’t like this.”

  His fingers warm his ears and Yuta closes his eyes, a bit embarrassed and enjoying it a bit too much.

  “You’re too cold, really,” Taeyong says, shaking his head. He takes off his jacket and throws it around Yuta shoulders. “Put it on.”

  Yuta sighs in pleasure, revelling in the strong scent left on the jacket. He wriggles into the jacket quickly, pulling it around himself tightly, as if he thinks Taeyong is going to take it back if he doesn’t.

  “I want to go outside,” Yuta says. He points his toes and uses his foot to search for his shoes. Taeyong squats down and grabs his foot, and he hisses in surprise.

  Taeyong tries to help him put on his shoes and Yuta curls his toes nervously. “What are you doing?” Taeyong laughs when he notices, trying to uncurl them.

  “W-wait,” Yuta stutters, drawing his legs back onto the bed. “I can do this on my own.”

  “It’s okay, Yuta. I want to.”

  “It’s d-dirty,” he says, his answer reduced to two words when he has a ten-minute speech and many reasons on why Taeyong shouldn’t be doing this.

  “It’s not, come on,” Taeyong says, “I’m not _that_ obsessed with being clean.”

  Yuta relaxes tentatively and Taeyong slips on his shoes. He doesn’t tie Yuta’s shoelaces, only tangles them loosely and stuffs them inside his shoe, thinking he’s going to get back into bed soon. And he doesn’t want him to go anywhere far.

  He stands up and Yuta’s eyes follow his every movement, and it is a little strange for him since Yuta has never done that. Taeyong thinks it might just be his imagination.

  Yuta musters up what little courage he has. “Can you hug me?”

  Taeyong furrows his brows in conflict. “Do… Do you really want that?”

  “I- What do you mean?” _Why would I ask you if I didn’t want it?_

  “I don’t want to pressure you into anything.”

  “Can you carry me?” Yuta asks instead, and Taeyong sucks in a deep breath.

  “I want to go outside but I’m tired,” he says, keeping his voice neutral and unwavering, even though his heart is beating out of his chest.

  Taeyong squats down in front of him without a word. Yuta is not lying entirely, he _is_ tired. Taeyong picks him up and he moves his IV pole so the tube isn’t in the way, and leans on Taeyong.

  “Is this going to hurt you if you move around too much?” Taeyong asks, gesturing at his needle. Yuta can feel his voice vibrating through his chest, and he sighs.

  “No,” he mumbles, even though the nurse had specifically instructed him to stay still. He pushes the pole along while Taeyong carries him down the hall.

   _Sorry_ , he whispers against Taeyong’s neck, closing his eyes.

  “What did you say?” Taeyong asks, and Yuta shakes his head.

  “Nothing,” he says quietly. Taeyong doesn’t push it.

  Yuta hums and rubs his cheek against his neck, drowning in Taeyong’s scent. “Am I too heavy?” He asks Taeyong, and Taeyong doesn’t answer him.

  When he thinks Taeyong isn’t going to give him any reply ever, he speaks up. “You should eat more.”

  Yuta starts when he hears his answer, and then laughs lightly. He hums, agreeing, and for the first time, he feels happy knowing someone is fussing over him. His stomach growls cooperatively at the same time, and Taeyong laughs as well.

  “We’re going to the canteen then.”


	16. Chapter 16

  Taeyong looks over at Yuta who is zipping up his jacket, ready to go. “Can I hold your hand?” he asks quietly, and Yuta is visibly surprised at his question. He is about to tell Yuta it’s his choice when Yuta holds out his hand timidly. He never ceases to amaze him. He goes from a glaring red light to mellow acceptance in a matter of seconds, and he does it easily.

  Taeyong grabs his hand, afraid that he’ll change his mind if he were to wait one moment longer. Yuta’s hand is soft and yielding in his, and though it is not much smaller than Taeyong’s own it is much more pleasing to touch. His joints are smooth and his fingers are long, and Taeyong marvels at how every tiny bit of Yuta is perfect. There is no strength in Yuta's grip, but Taeyong thinks his willingness to let him hold his hand is enough on its own.

  “Stop it,” Yuta says, pointing at his mouth, emotions schooled neutrally, “Stop biting. You’re already bleeding.” He turns away immediately, and Taeyong cannot see the expression on his face.

-

  Taeyong brings him to his apartment because it’s ‘closer’. When they get there, the first thing Taeyong does is to roll up his sleeve and check the puncture wound where the needle had been.

  The second is telling Yuta that he can have the bed.

  Yuta hesitates, and Taeyong nudges him gently with a hand on his elbow. “Really,” he says, finding Yuta’s reaction endearing. “Or else I’m sleeping with you.”

  Yuta stares at him and Taeyong realizes how weird that threat was. “You didn’t sleep either,” he says, and Taeyong smiles.

  “It’s alright,” Taeyong tells him, “I’ll take the couch. It’s good enough.”

  “But- but this is _your_ house.”

  “Yuta, do me a favour and have the bed, will you? I’ll be worried sick if I let somebody who was hospitalized two hours ago sleep on the couch.” Taeyong ushers Yuta to his room, turning on the air conditioner and staring at him until he climbs into bed.

  Taeyong opens the closet and pulls out a duvet for him and takes away the thinner blanket. He motions for Yuta to lie down and he throws it over him, then tucks him in.

  Yuta simply does what Taeyong tells him to obediently, and he can’t find it in himself to object anymore because it’s so comfortable. “Sleep,” Taeyong says, “If you go outside and I’m still asleep then wake me up as well. I’ll make you something to eat.”

  Yuta nods, peering out from under the duvet. “If you’re feeling better tomorrow, then… we can go to yours and get some of your stuff here,” Taeyong suggests. Yuta nods again, barely, and Taeyong smiles. “Okay,” he whispers, “Go to sleep.”

  With that he leaves the room and Yuta is left alone to marvel at how everything around him smells so much like Taeyong, it feels like the woody scent is going to seep into the marrow of his bones. He’s only been here twice, since Taeyong was the one who didn’t mind leaving his bed. It’s simple and comfortable, the colours very characteristic of Taeyong.

  He wonders what Taeyong is doing outside. _Probably trying to catch up on some sleep._ Just his presence makes Yuta at ease. He turns and lies on his stomach, burying his face in the soft pillow. He exhales and inhales heavily. _Taeyong._

  He hugs the corner of the duvet, using it to muffle his sniffling. Taeyong looks cold on the outside but he really is the warmest person he has ever met.

   _No matter how we got here, he is my alpha. And even though he can mark somebody else, he is_ mine. _He is_ my _alpha_. He shudders at the thought of Taeyong leaving him. He is right outside, and Yuta doesn’t know why he is choosing to brood silently here instead of making Taeyong hold him until he sleeps.

   _Alright_ , he tells himself, _He already said he wouldn’t_. Yuta falls asleep faster than he thought he would, stomach still hurting and worn out.

-

  In the end it’s still up to Taeyong to wake him up. Taeyong didn’t want to, since Yuta was sleeping so soundly, but he had to take his antibiotics.

  He cooks a pot of congee for him because Yuta says he doesn’t want to eat because it hurts. _And congees are the closest food to nothing_ , Taeyong thinks and laughs inwardly for no reason. Yuta had been watching him near the kitchen door, but he got bored and scurried back into the room.

  “Come on,” Taeyong says, pulling on Yuta’s arms when he finds him back in bed.

  “No,” Yuta whines, “I need sleep.”

  “You also need to eat and take your antibiotics,” Taeyong says, trying his best to not manhandle him.

  In the end, they compromise and Yuta gets to eat in bed. It wasn’t really compromising in Taeyong’s point of view, but it’s good enough.

  Taeyong blows on the spoonful of congee to cool it. Yuta watches him thoughtfully, and starts when Taeyong touches the back of his hand. “Open up,” he says, and Yuta frowns a little before opening his mouth, still clutching the edge of the duvet in his hands tightly.

  “I have my own hands,” he says around the mouthful.

  Taeyong ignores his protests. “I’d do everything for you,” Taeyong says, making his voice flatter so it sounds more disgusting.

  Part of Yuta wants to laugh at how stupidly sappy that was. “You can’t.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “I… I don’t mean it that way.” Yuta eyes Taeyong nervously, afraid that he’s going to take it the wrong way. But Taeyong appears unfazed.

  “I know. I’m sorry for not being around.”

  “Both of us…” Yuta pauses, licking his lips, “It’s not only your fault.”

  “Yes,” Taeyong agrees easily, holding up another spoonful. “Both of us were wrong, but everything’s going to be fine.”

  “Taeyong,” Yuta starts.

  “Don’t talk, or it’s going to go down the wrong way,” Taeyong says, looking uninterested in what he has to say.

  He swallows, and makes sure Taeyong knows he did. “I’m... sorry too.” He doesn’t know why he finds it so hard to apologize. Maybe it’s because he has always been a very unfriendly and self-centered person. But now he has, and finally he feels secure.

  “Don’t be,” Taeyong tells him, promptly shutting him up by shoving the spoon in his mouth. “It’s okay.”

  Yuta bites on the spoon for a while then pulls it out of his mouth. “I’m not good at… building relationships,” Yuta admits, feeling bashful. “That’s why- You see, I don’t have a lot of friends.”

  “It’s alright, Yuta,” Taeyong says, “I’m not good at it either.”

  “No, you’re better-”

  “Are you going to make me force feed you?” Taeyong asks a little roughly, “Come on, you need to take your meds. Here, I’m putting them next to your cup. And you better not go out to drink or I’ll kill you.”

  Yuta stares at him after his little rant, unable to describe how he feels at the moment. Taeyong seems to think he’s scared him, and he sits back down on the edge of the bed. “I- I don’t mean it,” he says, his tone way softer. “Come on,” he ushers him, “You need to eat.”

  Yuta digs into his meal, not knowing if it should be considered breakfast or lunch. He laughs to himself, head bowed. _Stupid._

-

  “What about these?” Taeyong asks, and Yuta worries at his lip.

  “Uh… Just leave them here,” he says, continuing to shove his clothes inside the box. “Are you sure you have space for all of this?”

  Taeyong shrugs. “We’ll make space.”

  Truth to be told, Yuta is a little nervous. He watches Taeyong push the cardboard boxes out of the door, and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. _I really am living with him from now on._ He doesn’t know if Taeyong will find his habits annoying, or if he will find Taeyong’s habits annoying. After all, that’s what they say, isn’t it? _That it’s easy to love somebody but it might be hard to live with them._

  He shakes his head. They’re doing everything the wrong way round but he hopes it will turn out fine. “Taeyong,” he yells, “I’m not moving these, let’s just get new ones.”

-

  Taeyong takes the pink slippers from the rack and puts it in their cart. “It’s so girly,” Yuta complains, “I’m not a fucking Disney princess.”

  Taeyong stares at the back of his head when he leans into the cart and fusses over his choices. _But you are very precious to me_ , he thinks, and decides not to say it out loud in case Yuta will hit him for it.

  Yuta jumps when a baby blue pair lands next to the pink ones. “You wear the blue ones then,” Taeyong says, pushing the cart along.

   _Why do we need matching everything?_ Yuta thinks, looking over the items in the cart in embarrassment. _Even the toothbrushes._  “Don’t you already have a pair?” He asks suspiciously.

  “It doesn’t hurt to have something new.”

  In the end the only singly selected thing is an electric razor, which Taeyong frowns with distaste at. He follows Taeyong around, who scouts the aisles like a mother and picks out softeners, tissues, the lot. It makes Yuta a little disheartened that he doesn’t know how to do this.

  “I don’t- I don’t really do my chores well.” Yuta bites his lip worriedly, finding the need to bring it up in case Taeyong thinks otherwise. “I’m not asking you to do everything but- well, please be tolerant when I mess things up.”

  Taeyong chuckles at his expression. Not many things make Yuta nervous, and something so small like this- it’s cute. “It’s alright,” he tells Yuta, “I brought you home to pamper, not make you do stuff.”

  Yuta’s heart almost beats out of his chest at his close proximity. _Is anyone in the right state of mind when they say something so embarrassing?_ He thinks. Nevertheless, he purses his lips and continues to play with the hem of his shirt until Taeyong speaks up again.

  “It’s okay for you to be bad at it,” he says. “As long as you don’t beat me at my forte since I’m not really good at anything else.”

-

  It’s not as awkward as he thinks it would be, living with Taeyong. Of course, it isn’t the most comfortable either. Yuta becomes conscious of his state at home and he no longer swaggers around in only his underwear and he doesn’t scarf down chips on the sofa and kick rubbish under the couch.

   _Wow_ , he thinks, watching Taeyong clean up after him. _I should really step up my game._

  So he purchases a Roomba, and in two days Taeyong is limping because it crashed into his pinky toe. “This is an abomination,” Taeyong decides through gritted teeth, far from the person who had been terribly excited upon seeing its debut in the living room.

-

  And they don’t sleep in the same bed. Yuta doesn’t know if it’s a relief or something he should be upset about. He tries to make Taeyong sleep in his bed by occupying the couch, but Taeyong had stared him down until he realized that nobody would be getting any sleep that way. Yuta saunters back into Taeyong’s room and only then Taeyong is pleased, pillow under his arm and the blanket in a bundle.

  Taeyong brings in a chair from the living room, sitting down next to the bed. To  _talk_. Yuta doesn’t believe him for one second because all Taeyong ever does is sustain a conversation for a minute and then wait until he falls asleep.

  Yuta rolls over and lies on the bed diagonally on his stomach, face half hidden in his arms. “What is it?” Taeyong asks, and Yuta chuckles a little shyly.

  “Why are you laughing?” Taeyong asks, a fond happiness surging up in his chest. It is dark and he can’t really make out anything else other than Yuta, so he reaches out with a hand and runs it through his hair. Taeyong leans down, their noses an inch apart, and Yuta chuckles again, his laugh muffled by his arm.

  Taeyong loves to ruffle his hair, but he does nothing more than that. It is a little funny how Taeyong manages to keep himself from touching Yuta like the places aside from his head can cause his immediate death. Yuta knows Taeyong’s trying to maintain a respectable distance because that is what he asked for.

  At times he wants to laugh and call him an idiot, but _Just a little bit more. Just give me some more time, I promise._

  “Well?” Taeyong asks, and Yuta shakes his head.

  “How was school?” He tries again, Yuta grimaces.

  “How enjoyable can school be?” Yuta mutters. Taeyong chuckles and leans back, crossing his arms.

  “You don’t know the pain that is dealing with people in the workplace.”

  Yuta blinks, and in the dark he can make out Taeyong watching him with a light smirk. And he doesn’t know why. Nevertheless, he rolls over and pulls the covers over himself properly. Seeing that Taeyong doesn’t really have anything to say, he tells him, “I’m going to sleep now.”

  “Okay,” he replies, “Good night.”

  Taeyong’s scent is calming but it buzzes through his veins like a mild electric current, coaxing him into sleep and keeping him awake at once. Yuta wants him nearer but also somewhere else, somewhere he can’t detect him, and he falls asleep with his thoughts battling themselves.

  But Taeyong guarantees a good night’s sleep, and that is all he needs to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was an uneventful chapter  
> School's just started and I'm already struggling (?????)  
> Anyways, I'll find in between my work to update so no worries!


	17. Chapter 17

  They are more than what they act like, but less than what he wants them to be.

-

  “It’s time for breakfast!” Yuta kicks his legs, startled by the loud noise.

  “...Fuck?” He looks around groggily, lifting his heavy head from the pillow. He is about to sit up when somebody tackles him down again. “What the fuck? Jaehyun… Why are you here?”

  He clutches the blankets closer to himself when Jaehyun leans closer. _Not even Taeyong can come this close_ , he thinks, almost saying it out loud. “Dude,” he groans, “Get off me.” Jaehyun’s weight is the hardest thing to bear.

  Jaehyun laughs and sits back. Yuta grumbles, unable to process the situation. “Why are you here?” He asks again. “You’re trespassing on private property.”

  “Taeyong let me in, obviously,” Jaehyun says incredulously, settling down and crossing his legs. He points to the space beside him. “He isn’t here, of course he’s the one who let me in!”

   _Bitch he doesn’t sleep here_. No matter how much Yuta likes Jaehyun, he hates everybody in the morning regardless. “ _Why_ are you here?” He asks grumpily.

  “I’m here to have breakfast and be a third wheel,” Jaehyun says matter-of-factly, and Yuta looks at him with narrow eyes. “Okay sorry. Taeyong and I are going to Kun’s! He just came back from China!”

  “Oh,” Yuta says dumbly, not knowing who that is. _Am I supposed to know?_ He thinks, but decides to keep his mouth shut.

  “You’re okay with that, right?”

  “Why would I not be?” He asks, and he means, _Who am I to say anything about it?_

  Taeyong walks in with his stupid Spongebob apron Yuta picked out for him. “Looks like I’m interrupting you two,” he says, leaning against the door frame.

  Jaehyun scrambles off the bed and bows a 90-degree bow at him. “Not at all, sir!”

  Yuta gives him a sidelong glance of disapproval, and Taeyong laughs. “Rise and shine, Yuta,” he says, “I made breakfast.” Yuta forces an incoherent sound out of his throat and Taeyong takes it as ‘I’m getting up’.

  He beckons Jaehyun with his finger and Jaehyun follows him like a puppy. “What’s he say?” he whispers when he makes sure Yuta is out of earshot.

  Jaehyun makes an ‘OK’ sign with his finger and Taeyong gives a thumbs-up in return. Jaehyun laughs at him and Taeyong shrugs. “You’re whipped.”

  “If you’re weren’t you, I’d beat you up for being in bed with him.”

  “Who’s beating people up?” Yuta asks, walking into the kitchen with bleary eyes.

  “Nobody,” Jaehyun says, stifling a laugh when Taeyong grins awkwardly.

  “Good to know,” Yuta says and yawns. “Look, chef, you’re going to burn an empty pan.” Taeyong snaps out of it and turns back to the stove. Yuta looks behind his shoulder at Jaehyun and gives him a half smile and quirks an eyebrow in amusement.

   _Wow_ , Jaehyun thinks. _Taeyong is really a sucker for him_.

  “Taeyong is really a sucker,” he tells Yuta when they are alone.

  “Huh?”

  Jaehyun almost clicks his tongue in exasperation when Yuta looks at him in confusion. “I can tell how much he is willing to do for you.”

  “What are you talking about,” Yuta says under his breath.

  “You’re crazy,” Jaehyun says, “Anyone with eyes can see he’s head over heels for you.”

  ”Don't say things like that, Jaehyun,” Yuta tells him, a suffocating cloud in his chest. He purses his lips and Jaehyun seems to realize he really is upset.

  “I mean it,” Jaehyun says, “Don’t you dare doubt it, or- or- I’m going to tell Taeyong.”

  “If you do that-” Yuta hisses, and stops in the middle of his sentence since he doesn’t know how to threaten Jaehyun. He sighs inwardly instead.

  “I swear,” Jaehyun continues, “He says you’re beautiful and he only ever says that about you. Did you know he never liked ramen, but he dragged me to the restaurant to try before he took you there?” Jaehyun seems to find the way Yuta blushes funny, and he presses on. “He looks at you like this,” he says, leaning in and staring intently so a knot forms in Yuta’s stomach. Yuta staggers backward and Jaehyun almost can’t hold in his amusement.

  “Stop it,” Yuta says through gritted teeth, faking anger to mask his embarrassment. He covers Jaehyun’s mouth with a hand roughly, pushing him away. “He doesn’t do that.”

  “He _does-_ ”

  Taeyong raps his fingers on the doorframe, and Yuta springs away from Jaehyun. Jaehyun laughs at him loudly and Yuta feels a little guilty for no reason. However slight it is he can see Taeyong’s lips twitch in annoyance. His ears grow hotter when he remembers what Jaehyun said, and he can’t meet Taeyong’s gaze.

  He doesn’t know how easily mistakable it is for something else.

-

  Yuta doesn’t know if it’s his imagination or not, but Taeyong still seems to be pissed when he comes home at night. He doesn’t really speak to Yuta, only making minimal small talk.

  The apartment is silent, and Yuta can’t get used to the way Taeyong sulks openly. After a while of pacing around Taeyong’s space, Yuta sits down next to him. Taeyong takes one look at him and turns back to the TV, paying no heed. And now Yuta knows something is wrong.

  “Hey,” Yuta starts, desperately looking for something to talk about. “Can I ask you something?”

  “What is it?” Taeyong asks, skimming through the channels aimlessly.

  “Who’s Kun?” Yuta blurts out, realizing that he _is_ , in fact, curious about who Taeyong had spent all day with. He wrings his fingers, suddenly afraid that Taeyong will find him annoying. “I- I mean, I’m just curious.”

  “He used to be my classmate,’ Taeyong says, surprising Yuta. “Although he’s a year younger than me. Pretty bright.”

  “Ah,” Yuta says uselessly, not really knowing how to continue the conversation. Taeyong doesn’t say anything anymore, and Yuta recognizes how vain his attempt was. So he gets straight to the point, and asks, “Why are you so pissed?”

  “I’m not pissed,” Taeyong says immediately, looking pissed. Yuta recoils and Taeyong’s expression softens immediately. He sighs, leaning back on the couch. “It’s nothing. It’s my problem.“

  Yuta worries at his lip, and Taeyong steals a glance at him. “Then,” Yuta tries tentatively, “Can you tell me your problem?”

  Taeyong sighs again and rubs his temple. “It’s nothing, really,” he says, and he isn’t convincing anyone.

  Yuta opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out. He is almost entirely sure that Taeyong is angry because of or at him, and he doesn’t want it. He can feel Taeyong’s frustration.

  He doesn’t know how he mustered up his courage to do it, but he scoots closer to Taeyong, a little agitated because of his pheromones. Taeyong looks up in surprise when he does, quickly attempting to hide it. Yuta tenses nervously when Taeyong starts.

  They stay like that for a while, thighs pressing together and Yuta thinks it’s the closest they have ever been. Maybe except for some other instances that are awful and awkward to be reminded of. Yuta pushes his hands in between his legs, fidgeting.

  Suddenly Taeyong sighs heavily and turns to him. “Okay,” he says, closing his eyes briefly. “I just want you to answer me honestly.” He pauses, hesitant, but he continues. “Do you like Jaehyun?”

  Yuta widens his eyes and shakes his head slowly, not really able to process everything. He shakes his head again, and Taeyong sighs. “Why are you asking that?” Yuta asks, and Taeyong faces him properly.

  He puts an arm around his shoulders to draw him closer and Yuta tries to shy back, but Taeyong keeps him in place.”Do you mean it?” He asks, looking right into his eyes. Yuta balls his fists in his lap, pulling at the material of his pants nervously. “Even if you do… like him, I want you to tell me.”

  “I don’t,” Yuta whispers, finding it a bit hard to speak loudly when Taeyong is this close. “I swear.” He doesn’t know why he needs to promise he is telling the truth either, but all he wants is Taeyong to stop being angry.

  Taeyong doesn’t look like he believes him, but he doesn’t say anything else. Yuta averts his eyes, the distance between them too little. What he doesn’t expect is Taeyong's hand on his cheek, forcing him to turn back. He is sure he is blushing, and it makes him even more embarrassed.

  “What,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Taeyong doesn’t let him escape, keeping him frozen with his touch. “Wh-What do you want?”

  “If you don’t like him,” Taeyong says, his voice low and deep and it makes Yuta’s hair stand on end. “Then no more of that.” Taeyong looks authoritative but also doubtful while saying it, and Yuta doesn’t know why. _Maybe he doesn’t believe me._

  “No more of what?” He asks, and Taeyong slips his hand to the back of his neck, pulling him too close.

  “Stop it,” he whispers, his eyes darting and uncertain, as if he isn’t sure if he is qualified to say it. “Stop making me jealous.”

  Yuta simply stares at him, his heart beating out of his chest and Taeyong’s warm exhales on his cheeks rendering him breathless. “What,” he says again, and he hadn’t meant to do that. His brain is working a beat too slow, but Taeyong doesn’t seem to care.

  “I want you,” Taeyong says, “to look at me only.” Taeyong cups his face, and Yuta blushes so furiously he must be able to feel it through his skin. “Even though you might not like me that much now,” he says, “Because I will only look at you.”

  Yuta breathes out shakily, trembling and trapped in Taeyong’s space. “Okay,” he agrees without thinking, and he cannot think at all. All he can recognize is his eyes, the bridge of his nose, his lips, the timbre of his voice, his touch, the dejectedness he can feel from him that now has a name. Everything.

   _So it’s like this_ , Yuta thinks, speechless. _When somebody… wants to love you._

-

  The bed doesn’t really smell like Taeyong anymore. There is still a faint scent lingering on it, but it is hardly enough. Yuta shifts uncomfortably, unable to get used to the change.

  “Can we change the sheets today?” Yuta asks quietly. “It- Uh, I mean- ”

  “Yeah I get it,” Taeyong says, “It reeks of Jaehyun, doesn’t it? Jaehyun thinks my apartment is his. I’m sorry I forgot you aren’t used to him.”

  Yuta nods, thanking the heavens that he doesn’t have to explain his motives, or else he’ll crawl into a hole and die.

  Taeyong looks happier than he was for some reason after his small nod in the affirmative, and Yuta has a good idea why.

-

  “Morning,” Taeyong says when Yuta ventures into the kitchen. “Finally decided it’s time to get up?” He looks up briefly from the pan where he is frying an egg, and Yuta had been attracted by the smell a little like how a zombie is drawn mindlessly to brains.

  “Good morning,” Yuta mumbles, rubbing his eyes. He stands behind Taeyong, watching him crack another egg. “I don’t have class,” he says, “I’m allowed to sleep in.”

  “Be careful,” Taeyong tells him, and Yuta hums in reply.

  For some reason, Yuta just really wants to be near him today. He’d woke up looking for Taeyong, itching for his presence, and he feels short of breath when he hovers around him now.

  Yuta knows what he wants. He wants Taeyong to touch him, maybe just a bit, and he will be satisfied.

  Being able to touch Taeyong wasn’t helping- He wants Taeyong to touch him. Yuta wriggles his toes and shifts his weight from left to right restlessly. _Taeyong_ , he thinks, trembling nervously and Taeyong smells so good. His mouth is dry and he struggles to speak. “I- I’m going outside,” Yuta manages to squeeze out of his throat.

  “Really?”

  Yuta stops in his tracks, turning back to look at him. “What do you mean?”

  Taeyong grins, not looking at him, but Yuta can see him smiling wide and he doesn’t think making breakfast is that amusing. “But I want you to be here,” he says, and Yuta’s cheeks flush a rosy shade of pink that is all very reasonable because the kitchen is hot.

  He doesn’t speak for what feels like an hour but is really two seconds. “A-Alright,” Yuta says under his breath finally, accepting his fate and retracing his steps.

  “But if you really want to go outside I’m not chaining you up here.”

  Yuta wrings his fingers, looking for a way to tell him that he does want to be here without sounding like he is desperate, but then he realizes it doesn’t matter. “I want to be here,” Yuta says quietly, and for a moment he thinks Taeyong didn’t hear it.

  “Good,” Taeyong says curtly, as if he doesn’t know what else he can say. Yuta pushes his hands into his pockets and peers over Taeyong’s shoulder. “Almost done.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he sneaks a glance at Taeyong’s profile, taking in the line of his jaw and his nose properly. He looks terrifyingly good, and Yuta isn’t going to deny it. Sometimes he would wonder who Taeyong would be with if they didn’t accidentally become a package deal.

   _Probably someone gentler_ , Yuta thinks, _Somebody pretty. And sweet. Someone who is better than I am._ The thought harbours a sour feeling in him, and he presses his lips into a thin line. _He can do so much better._

   _But he is here_ , he tells himself, frustrated and full of an apprehension that Taeyong will leave him for somebody else. _And he is making breakfast. For_ me. _Mine._ It stirs up his possessiveness, and it feels terrible. It is as if the thought makes him less conscious of what he is doing since he can’t help but feel upset, he takes a step forward and buries his face in Taeyong’s neck, tucking his head in the crook angrily.

  At this moment he understands what Taeyong had felt, imagining his mate with somebody else. It is astoundingly agonizing, and Yuta hates it.

  Taeyong expresses his surprise visibly, tensing. But then he relaxes and he doesn’t ask why Yuta had to do that, simply pressing his cheek briefly to the top of Yuta’s head to show him he is there. Yuta shivers, his inhales full of Taeyong’s scent, and he kneads his thighs through his pockets, trying to make the funny feeling go away.

  It feels so thrilling and calming at once, and Yuta is again reminded of how much of a dilemma Taeyong is for him. He can feel the rhythm of Taeyong’s breaths through the slight movement of his shoulders, and he tries to breathe in time with him. Yuta blinks and his eyelashes catch on Taeyong’s skin. He blinks again deliberately, his heart seizing when he realizes he wants Taeyong’s attention.

-

  He feels a little upset when Taeyong tells him to go outside first after he finishes making breakfast, following him with their plates in his hands. “You want to eat on the couch?” He asks, knowing Yuta likes to watch TV. Yuta shakes his head, and Taeyong sets the plates down on the table in mild confusion.

  Yuta is unexplainably happy today, and he knows no reason for it. Taeyong makes space for him on the couch after they eat, patting the place next to himself. Yuta claims his seat contentedly, the couch dipping under his weight and they scramble a bit, flustered, when they almost fall onto each other.

  When Yuta does get a little engrossed in the melodrama Taeyong had put on randomly, he speaks up. “I’m leaving in twenty minutes,” Taeyong says, and for a moment Yuta wants to tell him not to go to work. He purses his lips and nods.

  Taeyong pulls him to sit in between his legs, a little to the side so Yuta can lean on him. Yuta jumps when his arms slip around his waist, and he is suddenly reminded of how Taeyong had did this before. _Not so confidently._ He remembers an arm around his shoulder and Taeyong trying to breathe slowly so he doesn’t disturb him watching his anime.

  But now, it seems as if he is deliberately distracting him from what he is doing. Taeyong rests his chin on his shoulder, and this time Yuta is the one who can’t breathe. He curls his fingers, not knowing what to do with them. “You can breathe, you know,” Taeyong whispers, the hint of a laugh in his voice.

  Yuta’s cheeks flame, remembering that he had said this to Taeyong before. He didn’t expect both of them to remember it. "I- I really-"

  Taeyong pinches the nape of his neck lightly, and Yuta feels like a kitten picked up helplessly by the scruff of its neck. “You really what?” He asks, and Yuta swallows around the lump in his throat.

  “Nothing,” he mutters, keeping his head bowed. Taeyong seems to find it funny so he keeps watching him, and Yuta finds him still staring when he looks to him thinking that he must’ve looked away.

  “I love it when you’re like this,” Taeyong says, arms around Yuta’s waist tightening.

  Yuta grabs Taeyong’s wrist consciously, trying to pull his arm away but at the same time wanting him to stay like this. “Like what?” He asks, breathless even though he hadn’t been doing anything taxing.

  “Nothing,” Taeyong answers in retaliation, freeing a hand to run his hand through Yuta’s hair, and it knocks the breath out of Yuta.

  Taeyong had become much more touchy with him, and Yuta reckons this is the way Taeyong actually is, needing physical affection a lot and much more expressive about his feelings than he is. He doesn’t not like it. Perhaps he likes it. Perhaps he likes the way he can’t escape, likes the way Taeyong blocks out everything else.

  Yuta might be thinking too much, but he thinks Taeyong is even gentler with his touches than his words, so he leans back against him, settling down comfortably.

   _What a pity_ , he thinks. There are only thirteen minutes left.

-

  “Did you go out today?” Taeyong asks, and Yuta nods.

  “I went to the convenience store,” Yuta says. Taeyong can barely make out his voice under the whirring of the blow dryer, but he keeps his responses engaging. “...How was your day?”

  Taeyong thinks he must have heard him wrong. “What?”

  “I said… How was your day?” The moment Taeyong’s hand stopped ruffling his hair he regretted asking. _He knows I’m trying, right?_

  “You’re asking _me_?”

  “It’s not that big of a deal,” Yuta says, a bit guilty at Taeyong’s incredulity, but still manages to think of a way to get out of it in time. “You can choose not to answer it if you don’t want to.”

  “No Yuta, I- I’m just surprised you’re interested in my life.” He restarts the blow dryer and Yuta had no idea it stopped. “It’s good, I met a couple of my clients today.”

  “Highlight of the day is you asking me how it was.” Taeyong laughs after saying it, resuming his task.

  Yuta doesn’t speak, and only moves when Taeyong switches off the hot air and lets his scalp breathe.

  Taeyong puts down the hairdryer and hugs him with arms around his shoulders, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Yuta freezes, very conscious of Taeyong’s heavy scent since he is so close. _Wow_ , he thinks, _Wow. I love this._

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest this isn't that good a chapter since I didn't plan anything here beforehand  
> It's pretty much brain vomit  
> Because y'all told me you wanted to know what's going to happen during Yuta's heat, here it is :D

   ** _Yuter [11:38]:_** _I_

   ** _Yuter [11:38]:_** _just_

   ** _Yuter [11:38]:_** _realized_

   ** _Yuter [11:38]:_** _tomorrow_

   ** _Yuter [11:38]:_** _is_

   ** _Yuter [11:38]:_** _easter_

   ** _Yuter [11:38]:_** _break_

   ** _Yuter [11:38]:_** _Do my texts relay my excitement to you???????? Why didn’t I remember??????? Today is the BEsT day of my laif asdfghjkl_

-

  “Where are you?” Taeyong asks.

  “I’m leaving campus,” Yuta answers, stuffing his things into his bag, phone cradled between his ear and shoulder.

  “I’m coming to get you.” Yuta almost drops his phone while pushing through the crowd.

  “What?” He asks, “Aren’t you at work?”

  “I got off early today,” Taeyong replies, “Wait for me at the main gate.”

  “...Alright. But please don’t make a grand entrance.”

  “Do I look like somebody who would do that?“

  Yuta wastes not a second to reply. “Yes. Talk later.”

  “Okay.” Yuta cuts the call, rushing out of the lobby. _Too many people_ , he thinks. It was suffocating inside, people milling about even though Yuta thinks the right thing to do is to start the holiday immediately and leave this place at the first chance you get.

  He can already see the main entrance in sight and _somebody_ has to tap him on the shoulder. “What?” He turns around, annoyed. _You better let me out of this place or else-_ “Oh, hey, Sicheng.” His anger dissipates the moment he sees that it’s the Chinese student. “Aren’t you going home?”

  “Yeah, but do you want to go get dinner together, Yuta hyung? Doyoung hyung ditched me.”

  “Oh no, that’s terrible, Sicheng,” Yuta stabs Doyoung in his mind, “Of course I’ll- Oh wait, I- wait.”

  “Hyung, it’s fine if you’re not free,” he says, blinking his wide eyes. Yuta grips his phone in his hand, looking to and fro the gate.

  “Uh- No I’m- I mean, give me a minute.” He unlocks his phone and calls Taeyong, trying to buy some time to think. He feels guilty either way.

  Suddenly a loud ‘PICK UP THE PHONE!!!’ in Japanese blasts in his ear and he yelps, jumping. He scowls when Taeyong appears beside him grinning, declining the call and putting his phone back into his pocket. Yuta frowns even harder when he remembers Taeyong’s ringtone is _his_ voice.

  “Taeyong, why?” He asks, his look black.

  “Ha ha ha,” Taeyong says soullessly, and Yuta vaguely remembers that time when he had been toying with Taeyong’s phone and changing his ringtone as a joke. What he didn’t expect was Taeyong keeping it. “Ready to go?”

  It brings him back to the situation he was facing. “Uh- Sicheng,” he starts apologetically, “I think I need to- ”

  “-go,” Sicheng finishes for him, “Yeah, I think so too.”

  Yuta turns back and sees Taeyong staring at Sicheng, his gaze neutral but terrifyingly so. “Hey,” he nudges him, “This is Sicheng. He’s Chinese, studying abroad.”

  “...Hi,” Sicheng says tentatively, intimidated even though he is taller than the both of them. Taeyong shakes his hand and it is a little too formal for Yuta’s liking. “Who are you?”

  Yuta watches Taeyong’s expression lighten at Sicheng’s nervous tone and gestures. Sicheng could probably charm anybody. “I’m Taeyong. I’m Yuta’s-”

  “My mate,” Yuta beats him to it, “He’s my mate.” Yuta doesn’t know why, but he thinks he can’t handle hearing Taeyong say it. Sicheng’s eyes grow even wider and his mouth falls open dramatically. _Great_ , Yuta thinks, _Now everybody’s going to know_.

  “Yuta hyung has a mate?” he asks, his pronunciation even worse than it normally is due to his shock. “I never knew!”

  “Now you do,” Yuta replies calmly, but inside his head he is shrieking. _NOOOO don’t tell Doyoung that sneaky dodo bird I swear everybody is going to find out_ , he panics, and Sicheng only seems to be amazed.

-

  “What are you staring at?” Yuta asks, masking his embarrassment with annoyance.

  “You just admitted,” Taeyong says, as if it is the most serious thing in the world. “That I’m your mate.”

  Yuta pretends to be nonchalant. “Well, you are,” he points out matter-of-factly. “Aren’t you?”

  “I know, I am, but- you just, on your own- ” He decides he doesn’t know how to finish his sentence and ends with a frustrated grunt.

  “Whatever, come on, let’s go.” He takes Yuta’s hand roughly and stalks towards his car. He doesn’t see Yuta stifling a laugh behind him.

-

  Easter break becomes ten times less enjoyable when his heat skips merrily around the corner. If he were to be very honest, Yuta will admit he is avoiding Taeyong.

  “Hey,” Taeyong says, “Are you alright?”

  Yuta nods and ducks away, pretending to be busy with something else. Taeyong probably knows what’s up but he isn’t that kind of person who will push tirelessly. “Cool,” he says, “Tell me if you need anything, okay?”

  Yuta purses his lips and nods again, and Taeyong leaves him alone in the room. He can’t help but remember how terrible it was last time, and he is a little scared that it will be like that again. _But Taeyong is here_ , he tells himself. _It won’t be that bad._

  Taeyong busies himself in the kitchen aimlessly, taking things out from the cabinets and arranging them to look no different from how it was before. He sighs, hanging up the towel in his hands to dry and makes his way towards the bedroom.

  He pushes the door open carefully, and Yuta’s fallen asleep. His phone is still in his hand so Taeyong puts it onto the table to charge it, then furrows his brows at how Yuta is sleeping on top of the blanket. He needs to find a way to get it out from under him without waking him up, otherwise he is going to catch a cold.

  Taeyong nudges him a little, and Yuta doesn’t budge at all. Thinking that he is dead asleep, Taeyong tries to yank the blanket out, but Yuta’s eyes snap open and he almost yells out loud. They stare at each other for a few seconds, Yuta’s eyes wide and surprised.

  “Sorry, sorry,” Taeyong apologizes, “I just wanted to cover you up.”

  Yuta nods, still shocked, but he doesn’t move. “O-okay,” he says, “I thought there was an earthquake.”

  Taeyong can’t help but laugh at his expression, and he reaches to push his bangs out of his eyes. _Shit_ , he thinks when he touches Yuta’s forehead. _He’s burning up._

  Yuta seems to realize that as well, and he simply gapes at Taeyong, waiting for him to say something. “You-” Taeyong starts. “Do you want me to be here?”

  Yuta nods and then shakes his head, his cheeks growing red. Taeyong tucks the blanket over him, a little disappointed, but he ruffles Yuta’s hair lightly instead of trapping him in an embrace. “Tell me when you need anything, okay?” He says again, and Yuta nods, half of his face hidden behind the blanket.

  As composed an alpha as he is, Taeyong isn’t immune to the pheromones that Yuta lets out, especially during his heat. He knows why Yuta is so wary, but he also wants to take care of him. _I’ll just wait until he can’t hold it in_ , he shrugs, as if it doesn’t matter. Truthfully, it makes him a little guilty to see Yuta being so cautious about this, but he can’t do anything as of now.

-

  Thankfully, Yuta knows when he needs Taeyong.

  Taeyong stiffens the moment Yuta pulls open the bedroom door, his scent so thick and heavy it feels like it is tangible. _He’s so sweet_ , Taeyong thinks, panicking a little when he knows Yuta is heading towards him. Taeyong doesn’t know why he is so nervous, but the moment Yuta’s fingers graze lightly against the back of his arm he almost breaks into a sweat.

  “Taeyong,” Yuta calls him, sniffing lightly.

  “Yeah?” He asks, his ears already a dark shade of red, and he still can’t turn around to face Yuta.

  There is a hint of aegyo in his voice and Taeyong can’t hold himself properly hearing it. But it is like this every time, even though Yuta might not have noticed. Every time, Taeyong is weak in the knees for him.

  Yuta drags his fingers down his arm, his skin feverish, and Taeyong grabs his hand, restless. He looks back to see Yuta worrying at his lip, a bit like he’s afraid to ask for Taeyong’s help.

  “What is it?” Taeyong asks even though he knows. He just wants to hear it from Yuta himself.

  It might sound unpleasant for Yuta, but Taeyong likes him the best when he is in his heat. Yuta in his heat is timid with his speech and bold with his touches, and the combination sends Taeyong reeling, finding himself at a loss for words.

  And he knows that Yuta can only think of him. It is this kind of reassurance that has Taeyong confidently having his way with him, and brazenly showing him what he usually doesn’t dare to show.

  Yuta shuffles his weight on his feet, fingers around Taeyong’s wrist. He looks to the ground and Taeyong grins to himself, because he is lovely.

  Yuta clears his throat. “I want a hug,” he says.

  “Are you sure you want a hug?” Taeyong raises an eyebrow, and Yuta flushes embarrassedly.

  “No,” Yuta says, his voice breathy. He scrunches up his nose and glares at Taeyong like he is giving him no choice. “I think I want your dick up my ass.”

-

  And Yuta is always, always that bewitching.

  Taeyong pauses suddenly, and everything he can recognize are Yuta’s breathless exhales. He takes a look at Yuta, beads of sweat on his forehead and his jaw slack, and he can do nothing to stop his heart from thundering in his chest. His round, round eyes are glazed over and Taeyong swallows around the lump in his throat.

  Yuta’s fingers curl at his forearm, trying to get his attention. “Wh-Why are you so distracted?” He asks, a little upset. “Taeyong.” He pouts, and usually Yuta doesn’t do this.

  “Taeyong,” he says again, really bothered this time.

  “Can I kiss you?” Taeyong blurts out, his question sounding more like a plea. “I don’t think I can hold it back anymore.”

  Yuta’s mouth falls open a little and suddenly he has a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder, pulling him down, and Taeyong almost falls onto him. Taeyong steadies himself and looks at Yuta properly, eyes closed and lips trembling like it takes all the courage in him to do it.

  Taeyong doesn't want to make Yuta uneasy because he wants to kiss him. But there are some times in life when there is a risk that he just can’t not take, and he thinks _Just once, and I’ll be happy._

  Yuta opens his eyes slowly, a bit nervous at why Taeyong is taking so long to make his move. Taeyong closes the distance between them when he does, relishing in how Yuta’s eyes widen in surprise.

  Suddenly there is no such thing as _just once_ anymore, and all Taeyong is able to register is Yuta’s parted lips and the fingers on his arm, trembling and telling him to stop but really urging him on. He drowns in the rapture of holding Yuta bare against himself, the suffocating temperature of his heat, and the lavish luxury of abusing Yuta’s lips with his own.

  Yuta is so _his_ , and he doesn’t even know it. Taeyong pounds into him in frustration, gritting his teeth and he can’t differentiate between his and Yuta’s skin. All he knows is Yuta can break under him, and he will break him so long as he stays where he is now.

-

  Taeyong sits up and props himself over Yuta, the blanket sliding to his waist. “Wake up,” Taeyong says, slipping a hand behind his neck.

  Yuta opens his eyes groggily to see Taeyong over himself, a bit too close for comfort. Yuta almost jumps when Taeyong lies down on him, bare skin sending shivers down his spine. “Feel better?” Taeyong asks, his fingers threading through Yuta’s hair.

  Yuta nods, unable to speak. “Great,” Taeyong says, smiling and pecking his cheek briefly. _At least I can do this_ , he thinks. Yuta doesn’t push him away, but he isn’t so sure about what he will do if he really kisses him when he is this very conscious. _I can wait a bit_ , he tells himself. _As long as he feels good._

  Yuta closes his eyes again, worn out. Taeyong watches him drift off. His fingers are caught around Taeyong’s ear, and God knows what he was about to do. They slip when he falls back asleep, and Taeyong smiles in amusement.

-

  Yuta bounces back to his original state from his heat pretty quickly, and in no time he is bickering with Taeyong.

  “Why is this here?” Yuta asks, pointing to the picture on the fridge. He recalls that day when Taeyong had taken out his Polaroid and he’d grinned and made a peace sign for the picture on reflex.

  “Wait- Don’t!” Taeyong grabs him by the wrist to stop him from taking it down. “It’s mine.”

  Yuta stutters embarrassedly. “But- but it’s so awkward seeing myself every time I want to grab something from the fridge.”

  “Bonus points it keeps you away from the unhealthy stuff.”

  “How is an orange unhealthy?” Yuta asks incredulously, pulling two out of the fridge with a deliberate frown.

  Taeyong stares at him for a moment and Yuta wonders what kind of scandalous thought is brewing up in his head. “You smell like an orange,” Taeyong says finally, and Yuta laughs.

  “What?”

  Taeyong scratches his neck consciously, and it had sounded way less weird in his head. “I mean- your scent- it’s-”

  “Yeah, like an orange,” Yuta laughs, and Taeyong grows red in embarrassment.

  “Citrus-y,” Taeyong manages to conclude despite his lack of vocabulary. “You smell really good. Like, really.”

  “It’s only you who think that,” Yuta says, shrugging, “Because you bit me. I think.”

  Taeyong sighs in exasperation. “Why can you make everything sound so… so sarcastic? Can’t you say it’s because I’m your mate instead?”

  Yuta peels the orange, sitting quietly on a stool, and Taeyong leans over the island when he offers him a segment.

  “Pretty good,” Taeyong says, giving a thumbs up.

  “Taeyong,” Yuta calls when he turns back to his work. He hums in reply and Yuta goes on. “Fun fact: if you eat eleven thousand oranges, all the vitamin C in them will kill you.”

  Taeyong almost spits out the fruit still in his mouth. “What?” He asks, scandalized.

  “You heard what I said. I just wanted to share that information.” Yuta puts up an act of pulling apart the segments with a sinister smile.

  “What- When am I going to make use of this information? Who the fuck is going to eat eleven thousand oranges at the same time?” Taeyong’s voice almost cracks under the weight of his skepticism.

  “You know all these useless things but you don’t know how much water to put in the rice cooker. I can’t believe it.”

  Yuta shrugs and smirks. “You never know if I will force feed you vitamin C one day.”


	19. Chapter 19

  They clean out the spare bedroom, because Taeyong insists that he won’t sleep with Yuta. Yuta offers to sleep there instead of him, but Taeyong flicks him on the forehead, calling him stupid.

  “You can sleep with me, actually,” Yuta says, wringing his fingers. “I mean- If you don’t do shit to me, then everything’s fine.”

  Taeyong laughs at that and rolls up his sleeves. “You’re just testing me like that,” he says, shaking his head, “I don’t have that much self-discipline, Yuta.”

  Self-proclaimed ‘namjaest of all namja’ flushes red. “Stop staring at me,” he says, and Taeyong smiles and looks away. He doesn’t deny he’s been staring, and that makes Yuta even more embarrassed.

  “Are you free tomorrow?” Taeyong asks, handing Yuta a box of things that he’s decided to throw away. He picks up the other cardboard box on the ground and ushers him outside.

  “Yeah, why?” Yuta says, stopping suddenly and Taeyong bumps into him.

  “Let’s go out on a date,” Taeyong says, “Like, a real date.”

-

  Yuta isn’t going to lie and say that he isn’t nervous. It’s not the first time Taeyong’s taken him out, but he has never made it so clear to him that they are going out on a 'real date'.

  He’d told Taeyong he should decide where to go, since he knows nothing about how a date is supposed to work. He’s met people once or twice, but that was in Japan, and Taeyong obviously has more experience than he does. _What’s the difference between this and going out with a friend?_ But he can’t deny he won’t feel anxious if it’s Ten.

  Taeyong grabs his keys and waits for Yuta at the door. “What’s taking you so long?” He yells, finding it a little funny how Yuta is fidgeting.

  “My hair!” Yuta yells back, and that annoying tuft _still_ won’t stay where it’s supposed to be.

  “You’re already beautiful!” Taeyong yells, and Yuta grits his teeth. _Whatever_ , he thinks, _He’s right. I’m already fucking fabulous._

  Taeyong laughs at him when he finally gets out of the bathroom. “You’re trying to look good for me,” he teases him, grabbing him by the chin. Yuta slaps his hand away and frowns.

  “I am,” he admits, “Now don’t ruin it.”

  Taeyong stares at him, taken aback by his confession. “What,” Yuta says, “You said that yourself. Why are you getting embarrassed now?”

  Taeyong grins to himself, finding the way Yuta holds himself charming. _That’s it_ , he thinks, _I like him confident._ Yuta is so attractive it would be a waste if he didn’t know. Taeyong suddenly realizes how conflicted he is when it comes to deciding how he likes Yuta most. _Maybe I like him no matter how he is._

-

  Taeyong’s hands are in his pockets of his jeans, and Yuta realizes it’s been a long time since he’s seen Taeyong in casual wear. Most of the time Taeyong is in his tank top and basketball shorts, lounging around the house. Otherwise he is in a suit, but Yuta doesn’t see that often either. They never really leave home together. When Taeyong drives to work Yuta is still sleeping, or sometimes it is the other way round.

  It makes Yuta feel a little upset even though he cannot explain why. It is as if he doesn’t see Taeyong enough even though they live together.

  “Where are we going?” He asks Taeyong.

  “You’ll see,” he says, turning back to look at him.

  Yuta bites the inside of his cheek, then reaches to hook his arm around Taeyong’s. He swallows nervously, drawing his hand out of his pocket.

  “Are you sure you’re not trying to kidnap me?”

  Taeyong laughs and looks him up and down. “Tell me how you found out I wanted to.”

   _This is a date_ , he thinks, calling on his courage. _We should hold hands. I should hold his hand._ Yuta worries at his lip, his fingers curling into Taeyong’s arm. He looks unfazed having Yuta holding onto him, and it makes Yuta even more nervous. _It’s nothing to him, isn’t it?_

-

  Suddenly, Yuta’s hand slips into his and he almost forgets to hold it. His heart leaps into his throat. _This is the first time he’s wanted to hold my hand_.

  Every other time, Taeyong initiates it and Yuta complies reluctantly. But this… _Stop overreacting_ , Taeyong screams inside his head. _Stop overreacting, stop overreacting._

  It’s no different but it is at the same time, if that makes any sense. Taeyong feels all of his senses focus on the soft, yielding hand in his. He has not had this sensation for so long, he had almost forgotten what it is like to have butterflies in his stomach. He knows it is his imagination, but it is as if he can feel all the creases in the palm of Yuta’s hand and even define the pattern at his fingertips.

  It is as if Yuta can sear a brand onto him with his fingerprints.

  Yuta tugs at his hand, and Taeyong looks to the left at him. _Don’t be like this_ , he thinks, winded and full of a newfound amazement. _Don't do this to me._  Yuta looks at him hopefully, eyebrows raised delicately and lips pressed into barely a pout.

  Yuta points at a stall selling crepes. “Can we get that on the way back?”

  “Sure,” Taeyong says, nodding. He knows he will agree regardless of what Yuta had asked just now.

  “Yess,” Yuta hisses in excitement, “It looks really-” Yuta stops with a pained expression, and Taeyong panics.

  “A-are you okay?”

  “I bith my thelth,” Yuta mumbles, tongue in his cheek.

  “Huh?”

  “I bith my thelth!”

  “You what? ...Oh, you bit yourself!” Taeyong laughs. He cups Yuta’s face with one hand, running his thumb across his cheek, but he has no idea if it will help at all.

  “Stop laughing,” Yuta says when he recovers, look still sour. Taeyong pinches the bridge of his nose playfully.

  “You’re so stupid,” he says fondly, and Yuta mutters something, flustered. “Come on, let’s go.” He pulls Yuta along, ignoring his mumbling.

  He doesn’t know when Yuta stopped being embarrassed, but Taeyong knows for sure when Yuta starts making _him_ embarrassed. For a moment he thought Yuta is pulling his hand away and he thinks maybe he took it too far. But Yuta repositions his hand, slipping his fingers in between Taeyong’s.

   _Fuck_ , Taeyong thinks, the sensation hitting him hard. He stops walking and squats down without any warning, hiding his face with his free arm. _Fuck me dead fuck me dead._ He is a hundred per cent sure everyone is looking at him weirdly now.

  But this is  _so intimate_.

  “What’s wrong?” Yuta asks, “Dude.” He yanks his hand lightly, and Taeyong gets up without a word.

  He doesn’t look at Yuta, knowing that his face is a ripe tomato. “Taeyong,” Yuta laughs, “What are you doing?”

  “Y-you mean, what are _you_ doing?” He says shakily, laughing along.

  “I’m holding your hand,” Yuta says, like he is not giddy as well. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Then it’s not my f-fault I’m nervous!” Taeyong grasps the front of his shirt as if it will stop his stuttering.

  He wants to burrow into the ground right there and then, but he also _really, really_ wants to hold Yuta’s hand because he is letting him.

-

  Taeyong pushes his drink across the table and motions for Yuta to try it. It is an obnoxious pink colour, and Yuta hesitates for a while. Finally, he takes the straw in his mouth and sips it under Taeyong’s gaze, and he finds it not half as bad as he imagined.

  In fact, it tastes pretty good for a drink that looks like this. He takes a look at the rosy garnish again, and he makes a face. Taeyong takes it back and drinks like he isn’t concerned. Maybe he really doesn’t care for it at all. Taeyong sees him staring and grins, his eyes crinkling, and Yuta suddenly realizes he had been too focused on him.

  He looks down and nurses his coffee, still hot. _Why does Taeyong always like these kinds of girly things?_ He asks himself, but there is no answer. Yuta steals glances at him, but he always finds Taeyong’s eyes already fixed on him, as if he is waiting for him to look up.

  Taeyong lips stretch into a smile when he does, and Yuta quickly looks away again. He gaze drifts outside the window, lingering on the constantly changing traffic signals. Still, he can’t stop himself from trying to look at what Taeyong is doing, the way he hollows out his cheeks when he sips, how his fingers curl on the wooden table.

  Taeyong’s nails are clipped perfectly unlike his own, which have jagged edges and looks sadly like they’ve been bitten away at. The structure of his hands are very prominent, his fingers bony and there isn’t much flesh on his palms. Yuta wonders if that is why Taeyong’s hand feels so much like an old man’s, and he laughs in amusement to himself, trying to hide his grin from Taeyong across from him.

  Taeyong has veins standing out on his arms, and Yuta had thought it was weird for them to always be there even when Taeyong wasn’t using a lot of strength. But that was then, and now he judges other people for not having veins like that. It is a little terrifying when he thinks of this thoroughly, that he is starting to use Taeyong as a standard and comparing other people to him.

  Yuta worries at his bottom lip, unable to explain why he is feeling diffident because of it. Perhaps he should start to admit that Taeyong is becoming important to him.

  “I like it when you look at me,” Taeyong says, his voice snapping him out of his daze.

  “...What?” Yuta manages to say. “What do you mean?”

  “You heard me,” Taeyong tells him, and Yuta doesn’t know why he can say it so confidently. “I like it when you look at me.”

  Yuta’s mouth is open dumbly, and Taeyong chuckles. “You’re avoiding me,” he says, making Yuta swallow. He didn’t expect Taeyong to say something like this out loud, and it makes him feel a little guilty.

  “Do you like me a little bit?”

  Yuta’s fingernails dig into the palm of his hand, frightened by the sudden question that seems like it is going to bare him. He shakes his head ‘no’, panicky, and Taeyong raises his eyebrows slightly. “Hmm,” he says thoughtfully. “I’ll ask again later.”

-

  Yuta grins until his eyes are like little crescents. Taeyong watches him take a bite out of his crepe, pulling the strings of cheese out messily. It stretches out and Yuta seems to be fascinated by it, holding his crepe further and further away from himself.

  Of course, Taeyong has a sweet tooth and he got one with Nutella. He chews on it thoughtfully, watching Yuta devour his like he didn’t have lunch just now.

  “This is the best,” Yuta shares around his mouthful, pointing at the mushrooms. “Fungi.” Yuta continues to eat like he never said anything, and Taeyong stares at him in amusement. Yuta has a knack for referring to things with their scientific name since he used to study biology as well and he wants to annoy other people, and Taeyong finds it as confusing as it is adorable.

  “It’s good?” He asks, and Yuta nods.

  “Then… Do you like me a little bit?”

  Yuta looks up in surprise at the question, and the cheese string snaps, very convenient and timely. He mumbles something, but his mouth is full and Taeyong can’t hear it. He waits for Yuta to swallow, and asks again.

  “Do you like me a little bit?”

  “Why do you have to keep asking me that?”

  “Can I try yours?” He asks instead, steering their conversation away from its original path. Taeyong offers it to him and Yuta happily takes a bite out of it.

  Taeyong sighs, watching him get a sweet brown stain smeared on his lips, and he feels like kissing him again and again. Yuta licks his lips, and no matter how tough he is, _he is my omega, and I have the right to find him breathtaking._

-

  He had wanted to take Yuta to the theatre, but Yuta knows Taeyong doesn’t like watching movies, so he drags Taeyong into the IKEA next to their original destination.

  Taeyong hasn’t prepared himself for the way Yuta has to try out every sofa they have there, sitting down and looking at him expectantly to settle down beside him, and it takes Taeyong’s breath away bit by bit.

  Now Yuta has his hand around his wrist, burning like a circle of hot iron and he pats the space next to himself. “I like this one best,” he announces, “Let’s get one like this if we ever have to.”

  He has said nothing special, nothing that is out of the blue, but Taeyong is taken aback by surprise nonetheless. _The way he talks about it, as if we will be together for a long time. He wants us to be together for a long time, doesn’t he? If he unconsciously says that, it means that he does, right? Right?_

  Yuta stares at him with his round eyes. “Why are you zoning out?” He asks, and it sounds eerily familiar to Taeyong. It is that exact same tone when he’d asked, _Why are you so distracted?_ Taeyong’s cheeks heat up, remembering that he is the same person who had been helpless in the crook of his arm.

  “It’s nothing,” he says quickly, and Yuta gives him a look, but says nothing else. “Do you want to go to the other sections?”

  “Okay,“ Yuta says suspiciously, taking his hand and getting up from his seat. “What were you thinking about?” He continues to pester him, hooking an arm around his.

  Taeyong shakes his head and makes him look forward, squishing his cheeks with his hand. He smiles to himself, pushing Yuta along.

-

  Yuta jumps when the kids run past him, huddling closer to Taeyong. “Oh fuck,” he whispers under his breath when all of them pass by, finally relaxing.

  Taeyong watches him, finding his reactions a bit funny. “You don’t like kids?” He asks. If he had to be very honest, he is a little disappointed.

  “No… it’s just, I’m scared of them.” Taeyong almost laughs but he sees that Yuta is serious. “I’m scared I’ll hurt them.”

  “Why would you suddenly hurt them?”

  “Don’t you get scared when you hold a baby you’ll drop it like this?” Yuta asks, pretending to throw something away from himself. Taeyong laughs at his animated gestures, because nobody would ever  _throw_ a baby. _Why does he always worry about things that he doesn’t need to worry about?_ He thinks fondly. But then, he doesn’t worry about the things that he should actually be worrying about.

   _Like how long it will be before he starts to like me back._

  Only then does he realize he’s been sidetracked by Yuta’s weird antics. What he’d really wanted to ask was, _Would you mind… if I wanted us to have a kid or two?_

  He wonders if one day Yuta would be afraid to hold their child. Taeyong loses himself in that fantasy and laughs, finding it both amusing and endearing.

  “What are you thinking about?” Yuta asks, bringing him back to reality.

  Yuta eyes Taeyong curiously, and Taeyong grins. “Thinking about you.”

  “But I’m right here,” he says, and he always has a way to parr Taeyong’s advances. He observes the hint of a smile on Yuta’s lips. _Am I thinking too far ahead?_

-

  Taeyong pulls his fork back, and Yuta starts in surprise, his mouth open.

  “Do you like me a little bit?” Taeyong asks, watching Yuta’s eyes dart from the pasta, to him, and back again.

   _Goodness._ Taeyong can’t contain his grin when Yuta looks like he’s been cheated. _He is so adorable._

  “No,” Yuta says, scrunching up his nose.

  Taeyong raises an eyebrow. “Then don’t eat this,” he says, still holding his fork in front of Yuta, but drawing his hand back so he can never reach it.

  The conflict is visible in Yuta’s expression, and Taeyong finds himself comparable to a mouthful of pasta. He laughs quietly, because Yuta is still appealing even though to he wouldn’t even say he likes him in these ‘dire’ situations.

  “Well?” He presses, “Do you like me a little bit?”

  Yuta juts out his bottom lip in a stubborn and coerced pout, and Taeyong forgets what he’s been asking. He stops, suddenly nervous at Yuta’s expression. It is as if Yuta knows he’s won, and he bites on his fork happily, sitting back and his mouth full.

  Taeyong hand remains where it was, frozen. _He must know_ , he thinks. _He knows just how he can have me wrapped around his finger._

-

  Yuta looks in the mirror one last time and he sighs. _Maybe I should have said something he wanted to hear._ He ruffles his wet hair, and the steam in the bathroom is making him too hot.

  He opens the door and Taeyong is standing right there, and he almost falls back in surprise. “Dude! What are you doing?” Yuta reprimands, “You scared the living daylights out of me.”

  “I need to know something,” he says, the ghost of a smile already playing on his lips. “Do you like me a little bit?”

  It’s this again. _Why is he so adamant on prying an answer out of me?_ Yuta gives him a look, raising an eyebrow. He takes his towel back from Taeyong’s hands after he snatches it and ushers him outside, but he pushes into the bathroom with him. “When are you going to stop pestering me with this?”

  Taeyong turns back and blocks him from hanging up his towel. “Until you say you like me.”

  Yuta chuckles in amusement, and at this moment he is already playing with Taeyong, learning bit by bit how to push and pull with him because Taeyong seems to love that idea. “Then you might have to ask again and again,” he teases, and Taeyong smiles, raising an eyebrow.

  “Fine.” He glances to the side as if to check if anyone is looking even though they are in their own house. Yuta sighs at how childish he is being, and is immediately shut up by how he presses closer. Taeyong stares him down, and Yuta maintains his gaze with difficulty, conscious of how Taeyong leans towards him. He traps him against the door and it clicks shut.

  Suddenly the steamy air seems hot enough to make water droplets condense on his skin, and so does Taeyong’s breath on his cheek. Taeyong taps his own cheek twice. “Kiss me once and I’ll let you go.”

  “Taeyong,” he whines, but Taeyong won’t have any of it.

  “Ransom’s going to double in ten seconds.”

  Yuta closes his eyes, a weird and eager happiness bubbling up in his chest without warning. _I'm crazy._ He leans forward, nervous, and Taeyong could totally have his way with him now. But Taeyong waits, and he has the patience to stay still until Yuta’s lips meet his cheek lightly, barely.

  Yuta pulls away immediately, the tips of his ears already red. “Now let me go outside,” he says, keeping his voice from shaking.

  “I totally deserve another kiss,” Taeyong says unreasonably, and Yuta’s heart jumps to his throat. He doesn’t object, though, and this time he doesn’t need to close his eyes to gather his courage.

  He presses his lips on the exact same spot again, his nose against his cheekbone. Taeyong smells like his- _their_ shower gel, he smells nice. They smell alike because they are using the same set of shower gel and shampoo, still strong because they’ve both come out of the shower recently. Yuta’s fingers tremble. He loves it.

  He reckons Taeyong will notice that he smells like him as well. It makes him feel like they are  _something_ , and it makes him feel good.

  Taeyong doesn’t give him the chance to say anything, and he has a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Taeyong returns a kiss to his cheek, long and hard, and he lingers for much longer than Yuta knows is necessary.

  But then, Yuta wants himself to be much, much more than necessary to Taeyong.

  “Alright,” Taeyong says, his eyes never leaving him, focused and intent. He opens the door, crowding Yuta outside. “Good night.”

-

  Yuta touches the scar on the back of his neck lightly, shivering when it sends something like an electric current down his body. It’s been so long since he’s done this.

  He’d restrained himself from his curiosity, and he didn't allow himself to be reminded of Taeyong. The mark has always been there, but he’d always ignored it, fearing that one day he would give in to himself and admit that he is his omega.

  It is that dreadful feeling after doing something you shouldn’t have done, and worse of all, finding that you enjoy it. Yuta stretches his legs out under the blanket, sighing. _This is scary._

  For a frightening moment he craves Taeyong’s touch so, so much, he wants to hear his voice and feel his breath on his ear. He had already been with him all day.

   _Ah_ , he sighs in exasperation, _I really can’t help myself, okay?_ But he cannot apologize to himself, because he isn’t apologetic. He  _does_ want Taeyong in bed with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not that happy with this chapter but I hope you guys enjoyed it?  
> What do y'all think about the progress -- Is it too slow?  
> Let me know in the comments if you want to :33


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Timon puts it: Disaster's in the air

  “Yuta!” Taeyong jumps when Yuta continues to pour the laundry detergent. “That’s too much!” Yuta looks up, surprised, and immediately caps the bottle.

  “B-But it’s going be cleaner if I add more, isn’t it?” He asks, taken aback by Taeyong’s horrified tone.

  “I-” Taeyong sighs, “I don’t think they have a proportional relationship.” He glances at the tub they are in, water sloshing at their calves, and the detergent that is starting to foam. Taeyong takes the bottle from Yuta’s hands and sets it aside, leaning down to arrange the clothes under their feet. The washing machine  _had_ to break down today.

  “Yuta,” he says, covering his face with one hand. “It’s going to take ages for us to rinse this out.”

  Yuta jumps, splashing the water out. He grins at Taeyong, knowing that it annoys him, and he jumps again. “Yuta,” Taeyong says in exasperation when the floor turns wet.

  “Yes!” Yuta replies enthusiastically, this time accidentally stepping on Taeyong’s foot. Taeyong hisses in pain and Yuta laughs apologetically, grabbing hold of his arm and nuzzling into his shoulder. “Sorry,” he laughs, “Am I getting too excited?”

  Yuta stumbles and Taeyong catches him by his elbows, letting Yuta hold onto him while he does the housework with eager interest for the first time ever.

  They rinse the clothes together, squatting down beside the tub and Yuta keeps flicking water at him. The first few times Taeyong didn’t realize he was doing it deliberately, and he simply ignores him. But then it becomes obvious that Yuta is seeking his attention, so he turns to him.

  “What is it?” Taeyong asks, stopping his own work and watching Yuta wring the shirt in his hands clumsily. He drops his article back into the tub with a watery plop and gestures for Yuta to give it to him. “Do it like this,” He tells him, “Not all at once or you’ll leave a lot of soap in it.”

  Yuta scoots closer to him, scooping up a handful of foam and smearing it on Taeyong’s hands, rubbing them with his own. Taeyong stares awestruck, at Yuta’s hands around his own, his index fingers drawing swirling patterns in the white bubbles on the back of Taeyong’s hands.

  “I used to love this,” he says.

  “Huh?” Taeyong makes a confused sound, unable to catch up with what he is talking about.

  “It’s a sensory activity,” Yuta says, gripping the edge of the tub so he doesn’t fall, “For babies…? I used to love playing with bubbles.”

  Taeyong grins, imagining Yuta being fascinated by them. “And when I was young I would sit in the bath and scoop up the lather and flick it everywhere,” Yuta says, and Taeyong smiles to himself at how sincere he looks. As if he  _really, really_ wants Taeyong to know what he is telling him.

  “I was going to put it on your face but then I remembered that it’s a bit dirty.” He takes the shirt back from Taeyong and wrings it out the way he tells him to, looking serious like he didn’t just tell him about playing with bubbles. Taeyong watches him shift on the balls of his feet, a little tired from squatting for so long.

  He suddenly thinks he must be stupid, and he stands up, rinses his hands in the sink and tells Yuta to wait for him. Yuta looks confused as he walks out of the bathroom, eyes following him until he is out of sight.

  Taeyong comes back with a tiny light green step stool and sets it down on the ground in self-satisfaction. “Sit down,” he tells Yuta, but Yuta shakes his head.

  “You?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” he says, pushing the stool towards Yuta, patting it. “Come on, sit.”

  Yuta stretches out his legs when he does, and he looks at Taeyong like he is asking him if he is really okay. Taeyong gives him a reassuring smile. He loves knowing that Yuta thinks about him, and that is all that matters.

  “Did you know I played football?” Yuta asks him. Taeyong shakes his head ‘no’, and Yuta’s eyes widen. “I didn’t tell you?” He says in surprise, partly to himself.

  “When I came to Korea I stopped playing,” he says, “But I was really good!”

  Taeyong listens to him fondly, because he wants to know everything about him. He doesn’t know if he looks like a lovesick idiot, but if he does, it doesn’t matter because it is the truth. “Really,” he says, and Yuta nods.

  Yuta isn’t looking at him, but he can feel the heat of Taeyong’s lasting stare, and it makes him a little embarrassed. “You’re staring,” he says.

  “Because you’re beautiful,” Taeyong replies. He moves closer to him, and Yuta looks down and meets his gaze. Taeyong slips his arms around his waist, holding out his hands so he doesn’t get the water on his clothes. Yuta straightens his back in surprise, and he is a little winded at how Taeyong looks up and smiles at him.

  He holds his hands at his sides too, for the same reason. He is glad he can’t do it, because at this moment he would have lost himself and cupped Taeyong’s face in his hands. Taeyong’s arms tighten, and Yuta forgets to breathe.

  His breath hitches in his throat when Taeyong leans up and kisses his jaw, dragging his lips along his neck to his Adam’s apple, and he trembles at the way he lingers on his skin as if he craves him badly. “Taeyong,” he says, and he doesn’t know why he has to.

  Taeyong buries his face in his chest, and Yuta never hugs him back, but he moves his leg to the other side so Taeyong can hold him easier. “I want you to tell me about you,” he says, making Yuta shiver. “I want to listen to you talk about yourself. I want to know everything.”

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, “I have never been in so deep with something.” A lump forms in Yuta’s throat, because Taeyong is the only person in his entire life who has ever called him that. He doesn’t know if it’s because Taeyong has never really seen somebody who is actually beautiful, or if it’s because Taeyong’s standards of beauty are pretty skewed. But he says it like he means it, and Yuta wants to believe that he thinks that way.

  “Yuta,“ Taeyong says, and he hums in reply, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Do you like me a little bit?”

  He sucks in a sharp breath at Taeyong’s question. Yuta hesitates, and makes a small sound. Taeyong doesn’t know if it means a ‘yes’ or ‘no’, but he is satisfied. At this moment he is so close to Yuta’s heart he can hear it beat, and he can sense Yuta’s nervousness and he smells so sweet.

   _He is so perfect, so mine._ Taeyong draws him closer, and he realizes that the hoodie Yuta is in is his, and he feels even more compelled to feel good about himself. _Everything about him is perfect_ , he thinks. _And he is mine._

-

  “Yuta,” he says, referring to how generously Yuta had poured in the detergent. “It really is taking ages for us to rinse this out.”

  Yuta bites his lip sheepishly, but he holds his ground. “Do you really think it’s such a bad thing to stay with me a little longer?”

   _Alright_ , Taeyong thinks, _He’s got me._ “Alright,” He tells him, “You win.”

-

  Even though it is Easter break for Yuta, Taeyong experiences no such thing as a holiday. He still goes to work each workday, sometimes taking days off on Thursdays. Like a lot of other times, Taeyong is not at home and it is eerily quiet when Yuta has nobody to bicker with.

  Only halfway through with his thesis Yuta takes off his glasses and rubs his stinging eyes, cursing under his breath. Yuta grabs his phone and dials Taeyong’s number, and he picks up before Yuta’s patience runs out. Yuta hugs his knees to his chest, picking at the ripped part of his jeans.

  “Yuta?” Taeyong’s voice comes out of the phone, tinny.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m coming home. Do you need anything?”

  Yuta purses his lips and wonders what he should say. He had just wanted to hear Taeyong’s voice. “I want you,” he whines, and immediately regrets how stupid it sounds. “I mean, come home quickly, I-” he stops when he hears Taeyong suck in a breath, and waits for him to answer.

  “Hold on,” he says. “I’m teleporting back.”

  He arrives at the door in twenty minutes, and Yuta doesn’t even want to know why he got Chinese takeout like he had secretly wanted him to. They end up eating while the TV plays as background noise, Yuta resting his legs across Taeyong’s lap and lying back on the arm of the couch. “I hate school,” he says uglily, chewing on the fried noodles.

  “Then don’t go,” Taeyong answered easily, and Yuta is bitter for an obvious reason.

  “You can say that because you’re not studying,” he says, shovelling food into his mouth to avoid the conversation he had started.

  “I’m saying that because I’d let you live off me.” Yuta almost chokes, and struggles to regain composure.

  “You mean you can live off _me_ ,” he says around his mouthful. Taeyong smiles at that, and Yuta doesn’t know how to react.

  “I can’t read your mind but I know that was the best possible thing I could say to make you feel better,” Taeyong says, patting his legs comfortingly.

  Yuta snorts because Taeyong’s right but he doesn’t want him to have the satisfaction of him agreeing. However, he shuffles closer to Taeyong and lets him put his arm around his shoulders. “I hate you,” he says with his mouth full. Taeyong  _scoffs_ at it. He gives Taeyong a hard glare and continues to eat.

  “I’m sorry I can’t help you with whatever you’re worried about,” Taeyong speaks up, “But I can stay with you until you want me to go. If that helps.”

  Yuta scrapes the bottom of the container with his chopsticks. “Stay,” he tells him after a while, so he doesn’t sound too enthusiastic about it. Taeyong snatches the empty container from his hands and deposits it on the table, then takes off his glasses.

  “You look lovely in these,” he waves it in front of him, “But it’s getting in the way so it has to go.” Then he kisses him on his eyelids — which is  _stupid_ — and as much as Yuta hates to admit it, Taeyong’s lips are warm, and it calms him.

-

  The third time Johnny catches Taeyong flipping through a psychology textbook that he does not understand instead of doing his work, he clicks his tongue. “You’re so whipped,” Johnny snorts.

  Taeyong pushes up his glasses, not looking up. “Shut up,” he says, “What the heck does this even mean?”

  “Yuta is not an elementary school student,” Johnny drawls in reply, “Of course you won’t understand this.”

  “I’m just trying to help.”

  Johnny laughs. “Are you sure you’re not making it worse?”

  “Of course I’m not,” Taeyong says, picking up his phone when it buzzes with a message. Johnny shrugs, leaving the room with the folder he needed, and Taeyong blanches when he reads the text.

   **_Yuter [15:22]:_ ** _Have you seen my cognitive psychology textbook????? I can’t find it anywhere_

-

  After Yuta submits his thesis essay, exams roll around the corner, and Taeyong has already forgotten how tedious school was.

  “Hey,” Taeyong says softly, “Are you going to sleep anytime soon?” Yuta shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck. Taeyong gets up from his seat and walks over to Yuta, who has his notes laid out haphazardly over the table. He stands behind him, hands massaging his shoulders. “Don’t worry,” he tells him, because Yuta is the best, “You’ll do just fine.”

  “No I won’t,” Yuta says, closing his eyes and leaning back on Taeyong. Taeyong cups his face with both hands, wishing Yuta understood how much he meant to him.

  “It doesn’t matter, I know you tried your best.” He leans down to kiss his cheek, but Yuta doesn’t grimace like he normally does. Maybe he really is very tired.

  He stays up with Yuta all night, making him a coffee on request even though he doesn’t want Yuta to drink so much caffeine. Taeyong understands the importance of company. He wonders if Yuta knows he is trying to make him feel better with his presence, even though there is nothing he can do.

  Taeyong lets him draw strength from the palm of his hand, rubbing Yuta’s fingers in between his own. “I suck at everything,” Yuta would say once in a while in frustration, and Taeyong understands what he needs is reassurance.

  “You’re fine, Yuta,” he’d tell him.

  “You don’t know,” Yuta says in reply. “I’m disappointing myself-”

  Taeyong pulls him into a hug so tight Yuta feels as if his ribs will crack. “Taeyong,” he squeezes out of his throat.

  “Don’t say that in front of me,” he says, pressing him close. “I won’t let you say something like that.”

  Maybe he is a little overprotective, but he harbours an unreasonable hate for Yuta’s course, gritting his teeth when Yuta cries out of his vexation. Yuta grips the hem of his shirt tight, burying his face in Taeyong’s stomach.

  Taeyong can do nothing but pat his head and encourage him, and he feels very helpless. “If it really makes you this upset, then don’t take the exam,” he says, “You don’t need a degree to be my mate. I’m going to be here no matter what.”

  Yuta shakes his head, reaching for a tissue and Taeyong hands it to him. “No,” he says, “I’m just-just a little frustrated right now, I’m not really that- It’s just my fault.”

  He turns back to his notes, picking up his pen again. Taeyong watches him, his sudden decidedness pricking at his heart. He  _knows_ Yuta doesn’t want to appear this way in front of him. That is why his tears come and go quickly, and he bites his lip in concentration now.

  Yuta is easily discouraged, and Taeyong is still looking for the best way to ease him out of it. He doesn’t really know what else he can do though, except sitting beside him and sharing his warmth.

-

  In the morning he sends Yuta off with a kiss on the forehead that Yuta is reluctant to receive, but he cannot let him go feeling nobody was with him. “You’ll do just fine,” he repeats for the millionth time, and Yuta shakes his head like all the times before. “You have to believe in yourself.”

  “Taeyong,” he says when he looks back, two steps from the door. “Do you really think I’ll be fine?”

  Taeyong smiles, and Yuta looks lovely despite the prominent dark circles under his eyes that he has accumulated over this week. “Of course,” he tells him. “Of course you’ll do well. You are the best, Yuta. Come back home to catch some sleep, okay? Don’t worry, I’m here for you.”

  Yuta closes his eyes tiredly and Taeyong’s heart fails him. “Do you want me to drive you there?” He asks, and Yuta nods, pursing his lips and apologetic. Taeyong changes quickly into jeans and a T-shirt, ushering Yuta out of the door.

  “Come on,” Taeyong says in an encouraging tone. “Let’s go.”

  Yuta reaches for his hand on his own, and Taeyong pulls him into a hug when they wait for the elevator, rubbing his back soothingly. Yuta isn’t the best at staying up late, and he knows this.

  His hand is cold, a clear sign of not having enough sleep. Taeyong’s heart aches terribly, and he runs his fingers through Yuta’s hair. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Taeyong tells him, but Yuta is doesn’t seem to hear it. If he did, he doesn’t give any response, his eyelashes fluttering against Taeyong’s cheek.

-

  Taeyong walks around the car to the other door, opening it and leaning to pat Yuta’s cheek lightly. “Wake up,” he says softly, “We’re here.”

  Yuta forces himself to open his eyes, and he unlocks the seatbelt groggily. He pushes himself off the car seat, and he shakes his head, opening his eyes wide.

  Taeyong’s lips stretch into a light smile, watching Yuta try to convince himself that he is wide awake. “Taeyong,” Yuta calls for him, and he hums in reply.

  “Yeah?”

  “I- I'm going now,” he says, picking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

  “Alright,” Taeyong breathes, catching him by the waist and pressing his lips to his cheek one last time for good measure. “Remember to call me when you’re done, okay?”

  Yuta nods, and Taeyong ruffles his hair. “Do well,” he says, and Yuta nods again, worrying at his bottom lip. Taeyong furrows his brows.

   _I love him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know someone loves you when they are willing to stay up the entire night with you


	21. Chapter 21

  Yuta jumps up and down, waving at Taeyong in excitement. He runs to him and he can already see Taeyong laughing, welcoming him with open arms. “Well?” He asks, catching Yuta when he barrels into him.

  Yuta catches his breath, his face so close to Taeyong’s it feels a bit like he is about to kiss him. But he doesn’t, and he grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling into a smile. “Guess,” he says, and Taeyong furrows his brows.

  “Seventy?” Taeyong asks, already knowing it must be good from the bounce in Yuta’s step.

  Yuta shakes his head, pretending to look to his side thoughtfully. “Eighty?” Taeyong guesses again, and Yuta makes a humming sound.

  “Eighty-six,” he tells Taeyong, his eyes disappearing in his wide grin. Taeyong’s heart swells at his happiness, and he can’t help but be amused at his childish celebration.

  “You little liar,” he says, pinching Yuta’s cheek. “Telling me that you know nothing.”

  “I really thought so at that time!” Yuta says incredulously, escaping from Taeyong. He stretches out his hand. “I deserve to be treated something.”

  Taeyong scoffs and he slaps Yuta’s hand lightly. “No you don’t,” he says, turning on his heels and walking away.

  Yuta follows him, whining. “But you _said_ you would if it’s good!” In fact, Taeyong _does_ remember when he had told Yuta he would get him something he wanted that day when he came back home from his exam looking dishevelled. It was mostly to cheer him up, but Yuta’s forgetfulness seems to be unreliable at specific times.

  Taeyong pushes him forward and makes him get into the car. He revs up the engine and ignores Yuta’s whining, laughing to himself. “You can’t go back on your word!”

  “Twenty-sixth,” Taeyong says, pulling out of the car park. “Family gathering. It’s next Saturday, I think.”

  It shuts Yuta up and he furrows his brows slightly, thinking that he understands what Taeyong is implying but also not confident about it. “...What do you mean?” He asks, watching Taeyong’s side profile.

  He seems unfazed, glancing at the wing mirror and then looking forward. “You’re coming with me,” he says, as if he knows Yuta won’t disagree. _Tsk_ , Yuta thinks, _Control freak._

  But he’s going to admit that he’s nervous at the prospect of meeting Taeyong’s family. He doesn’t know what he’s scared of. He’s been on the phone with Taeyong’s mom once or twice when Taeyong didn’t pick up his phone, and she seems nice enough. _And that long, long time ago when he video called her._ Yuta shakes his head, trying to banish the memory. He feels stupid for stuttering and being weird.

  _But- But surely, Taeyong’s family won’t hate me, right? Right?_ He used to think it’s stupid when Johnny had freaked out over meeting Ten’s parents for lunch, and now he understands it. _What a very real and irrational fear._

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Johnny,” Yuta replies nonchalantly, his answer slipping easily out of his mouth. Taeyong scrunches up his face in an animated disgust.

  “And not about me?” He asks, pretending to be offended.

  “He’s hot,” Yuta says, trying to save himself. They are both silent for a moment when they register what he just said, then Yuta makes a gagging sound. “Ew. I can’t believe I said that.”

  Taeyong laughs loudly, and accidentally presses on the center of the steering wheel. The air in the car seems to vibrate with the deafening sound of the honk, and it scares both of them.

  “Dude,” Yuta says, eyeing him warily. “This makes me question if you’re a safe driver.”

  “What’s funny is that this is coming from someone who barely passed their driving test after three trials.”

  Yuta gives him the stink eye. Taeyong looks at him for a second, then turns his attention back to the road, smirking.

-

  Yuta swears, he only meant to get one beer and he’s going to be done for the night. At least, he should have stopped drinking two drinks earlier. He wouldn’t say he is a lightweight, but there is only so much alcohol he can take. Sicheng’s already left for home an hour ago, saying that he cannot stand being with so many people at once.

  Doyoung gives him a nasty look. “Get up, stupid,” he says, “I have to get you home.”

  Yuta doesn’t feel very drunk, but his body does. He walks two steps and he crashes into Doyoung, making him stumble. “I didn’t sign up for this,” Doyoung says through gritted teeth, letting Yuta lean on him. “Be glad you’re my friend.”

  Yuta tries to agree with him, but it comes out slurred and incoherent. “Whatever,” Doyoung says, dragging him out of the bar and helping him into a taxi.

  “Yeah I’m fine,” Yuta says when they reach their destination, waving Doyoung away. “You go home.”

  “Really? Are you sure?” Doyoung asks worriedly. “I can take you upstairs, it’s just a little-”

  “No it’s okay,” Yuta says, pushing him. “Taeyong is home.”

  “Who?”

  Yuta feels suddenly ten times more clear-headed, and he shuts his mouth. _I thought he knew._ Doyoung shrugs, deciding that Yuta cannot think straight and he’ll just ask him next time. “Okay,” he says, “If you say so. You’re a grown man.”

-

  Yuta’s phone is dead. That is the conclusion Taeyong draws after calling him multiple times.

  “Don’t tell me for some god-forsaken reason Yuta passed out at the bar and somebody kidnapped him,” Taeyong snaps into the phone.

  “I’m _not_ there!” Ten answers, his voice coming out tinny. “I got sick and Johnny won’t let me go.”

  “I don’t  _know_ ,” Taeyong grits out between his teeth, pulling at his hair like he wants to pull it out of his head. “He’s not here, that is all I know.”

  “Doyoung said he took him home though?” Ten says, and Taeyong growls in frustration.

  “Then why isn’t he _here?_ ” Taeyong asks, pacing like he is adamant on wearing a hole into the floorboards.

  He hangs up when he realizes Ten can’t help him find Yuta. Taeyong looks at the clock and it’s almost one in the morning, and his restlessness is starting to overflow. He slips on his shoes and locks the door behind him, feeling very uneasy but not knowing what he can do.

  Truth to be told, he is a little worried about how Yuta might come back now to an empty apartment. But he can’t stay inside doing nothing. He gets into his car and drives to Yuta’s apartment, checking his phone for messages or calls from him along the way.

-

  Taeyong takes the steps two at a time until he reaches the lobby. He presses the elevator button furiously, impatient. His phone buzzes and he fumbles for it in his pocket, anxious. He frowns when he sees that it isn’t Yuta, and he throws it back into his pocket in annoyance.

  The elevator finally arrives and he heads for the ninth floor, cursing under his breath. Yuta _better_ be here or else-

-

  Taeyong doesn’t know if he should be relieved or worried when he sees Yuta sitting next to the door. He is asleep, his knees drawn to his chest and head resting on the doorframe.

 _Stupid_ , he thinks, _Why didn’t you call me?_

  He crouches down next to him, patting him lightly. “Yuta,” he says, “Wake up, let’s go home.”

  Yuta opens his eyes groggily, and it is as if there are thousands of needles pricking at Taeyong’s heart. _Stupid, I was so worried about you._ Yuta registers it is him after a few moments.

  “Taeyong?” Yuta’s eyes are half open, and he reaches for him and misses. His hand barely catches Taeyong’s sleeve, his grip so light it might slip off any time, and Taeyong can’t decide to move his arm or not.

  “Yes?” Yuta lifts his other hand up and shows him his keys.

  “I didn’t bring mine.” His cheeks are dusted with a pink shade and Taeyong furrows his brows. _I shouldn’t have let him out alone. At least, I should have gone to pick him up._

  “These are yours,” Taeyong tells him softly, seeing the orange tag on it. His own is green.

  “No...no I didn’t bring my keys.” He taps on the door. Taeyong chews on his lip, contemplating whether to lie or not. “I tried to open the door but it didn’t fit.” He laughs at himself, amused. “I forgot I don’t live here now.”

  “I want to go home, Taeyong.”

  Taeyong takes a deep breath. He should have told Yuta to get all of his things to his house a long time ago. They shouldn’t have left anything here for Yuta to want to come back. “But I don’t have your keys, Yuta.”

  He _always_ keeps the spare key to Yuta’s door with him, and right now it's in his pocket with his own keys, but he doesn’t want to tell him. “I don’t think we can- ”

  “No Taeyong,” Yuta kicks his legs in frustration, his stuffy head getting the better of him. “I want to _go home_. Just take me home.” The brims of his eyes are filling with tears and Taeyong panics.

  “Hey, it’s alright,” he tells him, rushing to stroke his hair. Yuta probably won’t remember any of this tomorrow morning. He’s obviously drunk but Taeyong is happy that he isn’t that hard to deal with. At least he isn’t throwing up all over himself.

  “I want to go home.” Yuta’s lips are downturned and Taeyong tries to soothe him by rubbing his back.

  “I want to go home!” He repeats like a child throwing a fit. “I want to sleep.”

  “But Yuta, we can’t!” Taeyong says, his heart twisting with guilt. “Let’s just leave!”

  Yuta flings his arm away. “What are you talking about?” He suddenly asks in confusion, and it seems to drain out all of his energy.

  “D-Do you just not want me anymore?” he asks, his lips quivering and his voice barely audible. His doe eyes are wide and Taeyong swears he’s never been so weak for something. “Okay…” Yuta says, his cheeks flushed and eyes brimming with tears, “I’ll just stay here then. Bye.”

  It hits Taeyong right in his chest. He ignores Yuta’s struggles and hauls him up, letting Yuta slump against him. “Yuta, I thought you meant-” He stops, thinking about how stupid he was. “I didn’t know what you meant by home.”

  Yuta whines, his voice spilling like honey inside Taeyong. He smells like alcohol, but Taeyong thinks his crisp scent is the most intoxicating thing around. “I want to go home,” Yuta whimpers, crying typical drunk tears.

  “Alright,” Taeyong breathes, a bit overwhelmed by how Yuta referred to Taeyong’s home as his, “Alright, I'm a dumbass. Let’s go home.”

-

  Taeyong gets him in the elevator, then Yuta lets go of his hand and winds his arms around his neck, tiptoeing and leaning on him. His mood swings readily like a child's, and now he is terribly happy. “I told Doyoung you cook better than him,” Yuta mumbles, bouncing a little like a kid waiting for approval. He stares into Taeyong’s eyes, so close that their noses are almost touching.

  Taeyong holds his breath, nervous, but Yuta doesn’t give him a break. “Did you hear what I said?” Yuta whines, pouting a little, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

  “You think so?” Taeyong asks, amused. _Doyoung is the smart one, right?_ He thinks, remembering the time when Yuta told him about his friends at university. He brushes Yuta’s hair out of his eyes, but Yuta shakes his head and it falls back.

  “Of course!” He answers incredulously, as if Taeyong has just asked about the most obvious thing in the world. He grins proudly, and Taeyong swears he’s going to die of the smug feeling occupying his chest.

  Yuta laughs in a way that is obvious he is drunk, but Taeyong cannot care less. _Drunk words are sober thoughts_ , Taeyong thinks, _Aren’t they?_ He runs a hand through Yuta’s hair and he lets out a pleased sound like a kitten being petted.

  Yuta is surprisingly silent on the way back, and Taeyong only realizes that he must be struggling to stay awake when they are almost there.

  After Taeyong parks his car Yuta is still sleeping in the shotgun. He lets Yuta hop onto his back, and he makes a barely audible sound. “Hmm?” Taeyong asks, “What is it?” He gets no reply, but Yuta’s cheek is pressed against his neck, and everything is alright.

  Taeyong feels an unexplainable rush of security, as if he had been waiting for this all along. Yuta’s steady breaths stirring his hair, the arms draped over his shoulders limp like he chose to fall asleep on Taeyong because he could.

  It is the first time he has ever carried somebody home, and he’s glad it’s Yuta. Yuta is warm and soft, lying on his back, so close his normally faint scent is all around Taeyong. _If he would do this everyday_ , Taeyong thinks, his heart expanding in his chest, _I’d die happy_. But Yuta doesn’t, and he won’t, and it’s only because he’s drunk and he can’t take care of himself.

  He’s always said that Yuta is a reticent and self-contained person, and more often than not, Yuta likes to be the passive one in their relationship. He retires easily, and he is something of a shrinking violet despite what other people might think because of his outgoing personality.

  And it is true. Yuta has always allowed Taeyong to have his way with him, but there are only so many times when Yuta initiates anything between them. Sometimes it is funny how he is unabashed when it comes to sex, but it seemed like he is actively shying away from the affection Taeyong wishes he could shower him with, even though Taeyong can see he’s already been opening up to him.

  Taeyong doesn’t want to put Yuta down even after he reaches the bedroom. His body is starving for contact, and he hates himself. _I want to touch him so bad._ He grimaces, and finally lets him off his back decidedly.

  Taeyong changes Yuta’s clothes, praising himself when he buttons up his shirt. _Self-control_ , he thinks, _Awesome._

  He can’t hold himself even though he was determined to be strong-willed tonight. He crouches next to the bed, and Yuta is dead-asleep, his lips parted slightly like an invitation. Taeyong knows it’s not. But it is as if he is possessed and he moves forward involuntarily, drawn in by Yuta’s gentle breaths and the delicate curve of his Cupid’s bow. Yuta is _so beautiful_ , Taeyong never understands why he doesn’t think so himself. He always laughs it off like he thinks Taeyong must be joking, and every time, Taeyong has to remind himself not to push it.

  _Ugh._ Taeyong stops at the very last second, leaning down and burying his face in the mattress instead. Yuta smells like alcohol, he notices again, but it isn’t bad. It feels a little like Taeyong is the one who is drunk, and he can’t help himself but be mindlessly attracted to the way Yuta shifts slightly for a more comfortable position. He feels very light-headed even watching him do nothing, and he cannot explain how much he wants to hold him right now.

  Taeyong pulls the blanket over Yuta, not knowing why he is being so nice. He should have his way with him. Taeyong buries his face in Yuta’s neck, savouring his fresh scent. It is a tonic for him, but after a while he collects himself and pulls away after leaving a light peck on the soft skin.

  _I am a sucker_ , he thinks, ruffling his own hair. He stands up and watches Yuta sleep like nothing’s happened, and Taeyong is glad he didn’t notice anything.

-

  When Taeyong comes out of the shower Yuta is awake but his senses are still unfocused from tiredness. Taeyong likes to think it is because Yuta is aware that he isn’t here, so he woke up looking for him. But it is just a fantasy, so he pats Yuta’s hair lightly. “Go back to sleep,” Taeyong tells him gently.

  Yuta makes a soft sound and Taeyong finds himself responding to it even though it has no meaning. “Yeah,” Taeyong says, “You’re right.” Yuta opens his eyes again slowly and then decides it’s not worth trying.

  “Hnnng,” he mumbles, and keeps on slurring until Taeyong sits down in the space next to him. Taeyong tucks his hair behind his ear, a bit of it falling out because it’s not long enough. Yuta leans into his touch but it might only be his imagination. He traces the shell of his ear lightly with his thumb and forefinger, pinching his earlobe gently.

   _Why must you do this to me?_ He thinks, and his heart quivers with joy like every other time. Yuta yawns with his mouth wide open, but Taeyong finds it adorable. Yuta wriggles and frees his ear from Taeyong’s fingers, and when Taeyong draws his hand away, he catches it.

  He opens one eye, barely, and tugs at his fingers. Taeyong sighs. _If Yuta is always this welcoming_ , he thinks.

  “Do you want me to stay until you sleep?” He asks. Drunk Yuta is a baby.

  Yuta shakes his head, but he holds onto Taeyong. _Mixed signals much_ , Taeyong thinks, letting him. Yuta seems to be pleased, his lips curling like a kitten’s when Taeyong leans down onto the mattress. Taeyong props himself up on his elbows. Yuta is so close, and he  _cannot_ control himself.

  “Yuta,” he calls him, and Yuta mumbles in reply, already half asleep. “Do you like me a little bit?” He touches Yuta’s cheek lightly, grinning to himself involuntarily.

  Yuta mumbles something he can’t make out properly, and Taeyong decides to leave it. But Yuta doesn’t go back to sleep, and he wriggles to the other side of the bed, making room for Taeyong. He looks at him plaintively, like he could draw him into bed simply with his gaze.

  And he can. Taeyong apologizes to him a thousand times over in his head, but he slips into the covers after turning off the lights, reaching for Yuta tentatively. He doesn’t reject his touches today, and maybe it’s because of the alcohol. Yuta closes his eyes, letting Taeyong pull him closer.

-

  The first time he had laid his eyes on Yuta, it was already too late.

  What he thought was: _This omega. He is mine._ He can’t conjure any other thoughts watching him, observing the way his lips stretch into a brilliant grin and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes that told Taeyong he smiled a lot. He _loves_ it.

  _He must have been gaping for a long time, because suddenly that omega looks in his way, eyes wide and cautious. But then he sees Taeyong’s dumbfounded expression, and he breaks into a grin, the way it got Taeyong’s head spinning in the first place. He is so beautiful._

  _Suddenly he is near him, offering him another cup of alcohol and all Taeyong could do was stare. Up close, he is even more breathtaking, his cheeks flushed red and tipsy, hair messed up perfectly. He pushes his drink into Taeyong’s hand, and he smiles._

  _At that moment Taeyong feels as if he could smile, and everything in the world would be alright. It is as if he could smile and Taeyong would do anything for him. Taeyong would do anything for him to be his. He wants to take out his phone and wallet in his pocket and hand it to him, kneel down in front of him and thank him for being so beautiful. Taeyong stops himself in the nick of time, and he simply remains rooted to his spot. He doesn’t know how much the alcohol is affecting him, but this omega’s scent, fresh and bubbly, is more potent than any drink._

  _Taeyong doesn’t even need to know his name. He just wants to touch him in worship and tell him that he is the most beautiful person he has ever seen. He cannot hear anything else other than his voice, and he cannot look at anything other than his round, round eyes. Taeyong's brain short-circuits, and he asks, “Can I touch you?” The omega’s eyebrows shoot up, but he recovers quickly, laughing at Taeyong's audible nervousness._

  _His voice lilts at the end of his sentence, suggestive. “A little bit,” he says cheerfully, very like how Taeyong imagines him to be, “Only a little bit now.”_

  _Taeyong drops his empty cup on the ground, and he thinks the omega expected him to really touch him lightly, but he doesn’t. He grabs him roughly and pulls him into a bone-breaking hug, relishing in how he makes a small sound of surprise that nobody else in this room can hear._

  Ah _, he thinks,_ I want him to be mine.

-

  Yuta seems intent on falling asleep properly this time. He closes his eyes, eyelashes casting perfect shadows over his cheeks. The room is dim and Yuta sighs, drawing Taeyong’s breath out of his lungs.

  “Did you worry about me?” He asks, the question popping out of nowhere.

  “Yuta,” Taeyong says, watching his eyelashes flutter. Yuta must not know what he is asking right now. “What are you talking about?”

  Yuta furrows his brows and a light crease appears in between them. He doesn’t open his eyes, but Taeyong can’t move all the same. “Were you worried?” Yuta asks, his voice breathy and sleepy, but it is as if he  _needs_ to hear Taeyong answer it, otherwise he won't be able to sleep well. “Were you worried about me?”

  Taeyong’s lips tremble. “Yuta,” he says, his voice low. “I was worried  _sick._ ”

  Yuta breathes out shakily in what Taeyong imagines is relief. He swears he sees the ghost of a smile on Yuta’s lips and — _there_ — Taeyong’s drunk.


	22. Chapter 22

  Early in the morning Taeyong wakes up and slips out of bed without waking Yuta, feeling satisfied and guilty like a child eating stealing a mouthful of candy right before dinner. What Yuta doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

-

  Alcohol is liquid courage.

  Yuta wakes up to an empty room. Taeyong’s scent is oddly strong, and for a moment he thought Taeyong is still in bed with him. _He wouldn’t_ , he thinks, rolling over to his other side knowing that he isn’t there. Sometimes Taeyong listens a little too well.

  He shakes his throbbing head, trying to get rid of the dizziness. It only seems to make it worse and he sighs.

   _He didn’t stay._ Yuta sits up and ruffles his hair. He doesn’t know if this is disappointment.

-

  It’s become a habitual routine to look for Taeyong first thing in the morning, and today is no exception. “Morning,” Taeyong greets him when he enters the kitchen, “Did you sleep well?”

  Yuta hums in the affirmative, leaning against the door frame. “You?” Taeyong pauses for a moment, and Yuta wonders why.

  “Yeah,” he says, flipping the eggs, “Pretty good.” Yuta watches Taeyong while combing out his dishevelled hair. He had had something in mind to ask, but he’d forgotten what it was.

  Well he didn’t forget what it _was_ , he just forgot how he should phrase it.

  “Did you bring me home yesterday?” He asks dumbly, not knowing how to start a conversation. Taeyong nods, turning off the stove.

  “Is this your shirt?” He had woken up wearing something that definitely isn’t his, and he got a little scared because… _well, I don’t know how responsible a drunk I am._ He shakes his head. This had to be Taeyong’s. He and Taeyong are probably the same size, and Taeyong might even be skinnier, but outside of work he always wears shirts almost two or three sizes too big and Yuta has no idea why.

  “Hm?” Taeyong turns around to see him raising it up by the collar. “Oh. Yeah.” _Okay, thank God._  He turns back to what he was doing, and Yuta thinks he must have done something embarrassing yesterday night so Taeyong can’t look him in the eyes today. He follows Taeyong out of the kitchen, and he can see the words ‘guilty conscience’ written all over his back.

  They sit down at the table and Yuta asks, “What did I do?”

  “What?”

  “Was I really hard to take care of?”

  “No...You just slept.”

  “Well then what did _you_ do?”

  “Huh?”

  “Then why are you like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “Nevermind.”

  Their conversation ends as abruptly as it started, and Yuta feels a little bummed. They eat in an awkward silence, and Yuta had not thought it would be like this. He is a little dumbfounded, to be honest. _Didn’t you want me in your bed?_

  “Take the pill after you finish this,” Taeyong instructs, “Otherwise you’ll feel bad all day.”

  “Okay,” Yuta answers, pursing his lips. “I will.”

-

  He disappears into the kitchen again and comes out with a steaming cup of milk. “Drink up.” Taeyong hands it to him, sitting down right beside him, so close Yuta is squeezed in between Taeyong and the armrest.

  The mug is warm in his hands as is where Taeyong touches him. Taeyong’s thigh is lined up and pressed against his and he is _so warm_ , and so is the arm creeping around his waist. Yuta brings the mug to his lips, tasting the milk tentatively and trembles with something close to anticipation when he registers all the empty space on the other side of the couch.

  “Is it too hot?” Taeyong asks.

  Yuta shakes his head. “Just right,” he answers quietly. He sniffs when Taeyong pinches his cheek.

  “You’re not supposed to drink,” Taeyong reminded him gently. “Your ulcers.”

  “I’m fine. I’ve been fine for ages,” Yuta tells him. “And nobody was stopping me.”

   _Nobody was stopping you? Do you mean I should have been there to stop you? Do you want me to? Can I?_ Taeyong pushes it to the back of his mind. Maybe he wasn’t talking about him at all.

  “Yuta, please,” he says, “Take care of yourself.”

  Yuta looks down when Taeyong brushes his cheek with his knuckles lightly. “Okay?”

  “Okay?” He asks again, when Yuta doesn’t answer. “For yourself.”

  Yuta closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Okay.” It would be better if Taeyong didn’t say what he added in the end. Yuta doesn’t know why, but it makes him feel a bit guilty and self-conscious. _Do you really, really want to say for you instead?_

-

  “Just be yourself around me, Yuta,” he says, out of the blue. He doesn’t know why he had suddenly thought of it, but he finds the need to say it out loud. Yuta doesn’t answer him, and for a moment Taeyong thinks he didn’t hear him. But then he turns to him, and suddenly there is a spark in his eyes.

  “Be myself?” He asks.

  Taeyong nods nervously, not knowing why Yuta is appearing daring all of a sudden. “Okay,” he says, then he reaches to pull his shorts off.

  “What are you-”

  “I’m just going to let you know that this is how I am when I am alone,” Yuta says, balling the fabric up and tossing it away. “I have no image.”

  “...What?” Yuta asks when Taeyong goes silent. “You told me to be myself.”

  Taeyong doesn’t know if he regrets telling Yuta that when he saunters around in his underwear. Sometimes Taeyong wants to tell Yuta that he is a properly functioning alpha.

  It doesn’t help that Yuta does not know what effect he has on Taeyong. Taeyong notices everything, like how Yuta’s — _Taeyong’s_ — baggy shirt exposes a spectacular view of his milky chest when he leans down to pick up the remote. On the other end of the couch, Yuta stretches out his legs, oblivious to the person across from him, and Taeyong swallows. So much for holding himself properly. Yuta is tempting him without even knowing.

  Everything makes him aware of his helplessness at that unfair power Yuta has over him and his lip twitches slightly. _What do I have to do for him to feel what I do?_

-

  He peeks into the room from the half-open door. Yuta is sitting cross-legged on the bed, the pile of laundry fresh out of the dryer in front of him. He picks up a light blue shirt and shakes it out, placing it on the bed and meticulously smoothing out its creases. Taeyong’s heart expands in his chest, and he pushes open the door. Yuta looks up, and Taeyong greets him uselessly. “Hey.”

  Yuta’s eyes follow him as he walks up to the bed. “You don’t have anything to do?”

  “No,” Taeyong replies, sitting down at the foot of the bed. Yuta holds out his hand in alarm to catch the toppling pile as the bed dips under Taeyong’s weight.

  “Then help me,” he says, his attention going back to the shirt laid out in front of him.

  “I don’t want to,” Taeyong whines, “I’m just coming to watch you.”

  “What’s so interesting about this?” Yuta asks as Taeyong sits down next to him.

  Taeyong smiles mysteriously and Yuta gives him a withering look. Taeyong thrusts his arms into the pile of warm clothes and sighs in satisfaction.

  “If you’re not helping don’t mess things up.” Yuta reshapes the pile and Taeyong uses that moment when he isn’t noticing to sidle up to him. He rests his chin on his shoulder and noses at his neck. Yuta smells better than anything, even fresh laundry.

  “I can’t work this way,” Yuta says when he tries to lean forward but Taeyong’s arm keeps him in place. “Come on, Taeyong.”

  Taeyong reluctantly lets go of him and collapses on the bed. Yuta pushes their pillows aside for a place to stack the neatly folded clothes.

  “You know why I love watching you fold our clothes?”

  “Maybe it’s a kink,” Yuta says nonchalantly. “That I didn’t know existed.”

  Taeyong closes his eyes and sighs in exasperation. “Why must you think of me this way?”

  Yuta grins, and Taeyong knows he is smitten. “You want to know why?” He asks, not giving up.

  “What if I don’t?” Yuta quirks an eyebrow at him. Taeyong recognizes it as his own habit and reciprocates the action, earning a laugh from Yuta. “You just want me to ask you myself, don’t you?” He asks. _You just want to say something stupid again, don't you?_  Yuta thinks. _I can feel it._ “So… why?”

  “Because I want to know exactly why everytime I put on a shirt it smells of you,” Taeyong says, the corner of his eyes crinkled in a fond smile. “Because I want everybody to scent you on me so they know you’re mine. I want everything around me to remind me of you.

  “And I’m so happy when I think of you.”

  “I think… I think I love you,” Taeyong says, watching Yuta’s eyelashes flutter and his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows. “Yeah,” he breathes, his chest constricting and he is short of breath. Then he nods to himself, “I love you.”

  He is so beautiful, it feels wrong, even immoral to not love him at all.

  Yuta’s fingers skim over the fabric, reaching the shoulders and folding in the sleeves. He looks nowhere as calm and collected as he was a few moments earlier, and Taeyong doesn’t want to push him. “It’s okay,” he tells him, “You don’t need to say it back.”

  Yuta sighs and avoids eye contact. “Don’t blame yourself,” Taeyong says, “This is hardly your fault.”

  “I-I’m just not used to… this,” Yuta says and purses his lips.

  “To what?”

  “Having you around all the time,” Yuta manages to say. Taeyong is too easy to read. The way he looks at him is always full of a genuine amazement, his face lights up once he catches his eyes, the instant change in his pheromones when he is around, and the strength of his hugs leaves Yuta breathless.

  It feels wonderful and terrifying at the same time, that someone is showing how much he likes him so openly. “Oh,” Taeyong says, “I mean, if you’re still uncomfortable with this arrangement I can-”

  “No!” The room is suddenly too silent for Yuta’s liking after his outburst. _Why did I react so strongly?_ He thinks, looking down, embarrassed. “I mean, I-”

  “You what?”

  “I lo- I enjoy living with you.”

  Suddenly Taeyong reaches up and pulls him down on the bed. Yuta makes a sound of surprise but Taeyong ignores it. “You know what?” He says, “Yesterday.” Yuta shudders consciously, all his senses focused on Taeyong’s body lined up behind his.

  “What,” he says, his voice barely audible.

  “If you were wondering what made me so jittery this morning, you made me sleep with you,” Taeyong says right next to his ear. Yuta pats his arm around his waist, but he doesn’t let go. “Like _this._ And you told me not to go.”

  “And…?” Yuta whispers. _You’re stupid_ , he thinks, _Really really stupid. Why did you leave then? Did I not sound convincing enough for you to stay?_ Taeyong’s breath stirs his hair and tickles his ear.

  Taeyong likes to hover closely behind him or even nose at his neck, and sometimes he understands him, and he knows how comforting his mate’s scent is. But Taeyong is unabashedly fond of it, and on the other hand, Yuta can’t find it in himself to show it. He doesn’t know if Taeyong notices, and he hopes he doesn’t, but he always hogs the things Taeyong’s worn, for the simple reason that it is ‘convenient’, but he knows it’s because it reminds him of Taeyong when he isn’t here.

  “I said,” Taeyong pauses, “I love you. Put two and two together, will you?”

  “...I don’t understand, Taeyong.” Yuta musters up what little courage he has and turns around with some difficulty. Taeyong stares at him intently.

  “How could I not give in to you?” Taeyong whispers, “You think of me too highly. I don’t have that much self-control.”

  Taeyong searches his face with darting pupils. Yuta holds in his breath, not daring to even exhale. He is so _close._

  “I don’t think I can ever resist you, even though it sounds fake and overused as hell,” he breathes. “Of course I stayed. Of course I did. You’ve got me feeling so satisfied and terrible at the same time.”

  Taeyong leans in slowly and he makes it look like he wants to kiss him, but decides to stop at the last moment. His gaze flickers to Yuta’s eyes, as if he’ll read rejection there, and he kisses him on the tip of his nose instead.

  Yuta hates himself for being a coward. He buries his face in Taeyong’s neck and lets Taeyong hold him, laundry forgotten.

-

  Yuta opens his eyes slowly, blinking the sleep away. _Oh_ , he breathes, seeing Taeyong asleep next to him. He rolls over and checks the time, and the clock reads a quarter to six. They’ve accidentally fallen asleep.

  He chuckles, finding it a bit amusing. Yuta sits up, rearranging the pile of laundry that has toppled over. Taeyong doesn’t stir, so Yuta doesn’t wake him. When he finishes he pushes himself off the bed with a huff, balancing the folded pile in his arms. He stacks them in the drawer under the closet, and then he turns back to look at Taeyong, still asleep.

  Yuta crawls next to him, settling with knees bent under himself and leaning down on folded arms. He touches Taeyong’s forearm, dragging his fingers across his skin. “Taeyong,” he says, keeping his voice low. “Wake up.” He nudges him, fingers lingering on his arm because he is so _warm._ “Taeyong.”

-

  Taeyong grins the moment he registers Yuta in front of him, and for a while he simply stares and smiles, enthralled by the way he buries his face in the duvet. _Is this what I can wake up to everyday?_ He thinks. _I can wake up to this everyday. This is what I can wake up to everyday._

  He reaches for Yuta, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling him closer. “Come here,” he says, and Yuta scoots nearer tentatively.

  “No,” Taeyong says, “Here.” He opens his arms, and he can see Yuta suck in a cold breath. But he settles down beside him meekly, pursing his lips.

  “But we have to get up,” he says softly, turning him down in another way. But this time Taeyong doesn’t give in to him, and he winds his arms around Yuta, pulling him closer.

  He sighs contentedly as he holds him, and Yuta swallows a small surprised sound when he does. “Taeyong,” he whispers.

  “Shh,” Taeyong says, burying his face in Yuta’s chest. He gives him little kisses on his collar, and Yuta squirms, but he lies still after a while.

  “Aren’t we getting up?” Yuta asks, his voice small.

  “No,” Taeyong answers, his voice raspy.

  “But it’s-”

  “Yuta.” Taeyong’s lips move against his collarbone, and Yuta’s insides melt into a sticky mess. Taeyong can probably hear his heart trying to beat out of his chest, so he tries to keep himself calm. But Taeyong’s hair tickles his neck, and he has to hold back a nervous whine. “Can’t you just let me hold you a little bit more?”

  Yuta’s complaint gets stuck in his throat, and he bites his bottom lip to make sure it doesn’t slip out. He doesn’t want Taeyong to think that he doesn’t want this anymore. Sometimes it feels as if Taeyong is putting himself in a lesser position when it comes to their relationship. Almost every time he is the one who relents, and he is the one who gives Yuta space even though Yuta can see he doesn’t want to do it.

  Now that he is finally unable to withhold himself from doing that… strangely, Yuta wants to take advantage of it. _I’m… trying to make the most out of this?_ Yuta is going to admit that he doesn’t have the courage to just tell Taeyong he knew what he had been doing last night, even though it was impulsive. He swallows around the lump in his throat, putting his arms around Taeyong gingerly. Yuta cradles his head lightly, biting on his lip to stop himself from trembling when Taeyong chuckles in satisfaction that is plain to see.

  Taeyong kisses him right above the neck of his shirt again, his breath warm on his skin, and the flush spreads to Yuta's ears swiftly. His hand reaches into his shirt, sliding up his back. Taeyong places it right where his terrified heart is, and his fingers drum lightly as if he is teasing him. _Stupid,_ he seems to be saying, _It’s just me._

-

  It’s late at night and they are snuggled in the comfy chairs at the very corner of the cafe, the dim yellow lighting making Yuta sleepy. This cafe is one of his favourites, since it is open until two in the morning. The perfect place for a student to dwell.

  Taeyong types on his laptop, the sounds of the keyboard sharp and clean, rhythmic like his breaths. Yuta looks down at his notebook, the outline of his essay still struggling to take shape. He sighs and closes his eyes.

  “Tired?” Taeyong asks, his voice soundly distinct. Yuta nods, his eyelids too heavy to open. He shakes his head to banish the little drowsiness and his eyes snap open once he realizes that he is going to fall asleep this way.

  Yuta reaches for Taeyong’s cup and Taeyong hands it to him, their fingers locking for a moment in the porcelain handle. He holds it with two hands as if he is afraid he’ll drop it, and he takes a big gulp of the caffeine, sniffing.

  “Do you want to go home?” _I s_ _houldn’t have let him come out today_ , Taeyong thinks, and he finds himself thinking along that line a lot. _Should have made him stay at home. Why can’t he stay where he can be comfortable in?_

  Yuta nods, pushing the cappuccino back towards him. Taeyong looks up, and they’re right. Taeyong stares at him, catching the bubbly white foam with his tongue, looking down curiously. _They’re right. There is something mesmerizing about this._

  He used to frown at these scenes, but he realizes now that if that person is Yuta, everything he does can make his heart race. _I want him so much._

 _I’d die to kiss him once._ So he does that, and he cannot care less about what he had promised to himself about asking Yuta first. Nobody else is here to see it but he doesn’t think he would have cared even if someone was. He leans across the table and grabs his face with both hands, sealing his lips and swallowing that little sound of surprise- _I’m not going to wait anymore. I can’t wait anymore._

-

  Yuta starts but he closes his eyes, letting go of his pen involuntarily. It hits his notebook with a light thump, rolls off the table and falls with a sharp sound on the wooden floorboard, but his perception tells him that it is all very far away. Everything except Taeyong seems unimportant.

  He tastes like his cappuccino, tastes of sweet milk and bitter coffee, but he is more potent than caffeine is. Yuta’s lips tremble against Taeyong’s, all of his thoughts drowning in a hazy fever of excitement.

  Taeyong draws back and he whines, leaning forward to chase after him. Taeyong smiles and he realizes how desperate he is, and he opens his eyes to see him grinning fondly. Yuta flushes in embarrassment.

  Taeyong watches him, his gaze fond and intent. Taeyong seems to smirk to himself a little, and then he leans in to kiss him again for good measure. He nudges him lightly, and it startles Yuta into parting his mouth. Taeyong chuckles and Yuta draws in a breath that hitches in his throat, producing a small sound like a barely audible hiccup.

  Taeyong’s fingers slip into his hair and he shies back a little. “I can kiss you?” He asks.

  “But- But you already did,” Yuta says, his voice getting smaller and smaller.

  “I need to know if I can do it again.”

  Yuta looks down at the floor, pursing his lips. “Take me home first,” he says, his eyes hooded, “Then I’ll let you know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of posting a bit more for Yuta's birthday on the 26th, but I was wondering if you guys would like me to write more chapters of this first or read one-shots?  
> Let me know -- And if you have any ideas about what you want to read or want me to write, do tell me too! (-->Currently running out of ideas) It might spark some imagination (*´∀`*)


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations to NCT 127 for coming back with a full album!!  
> Regular-Irregular is doing great for a 1st album :D

  Yuta closes the door behind himself, wincing as the clicking sound echoes in the dark. He scares himself when he is like this. _I should really learn to restrain my impulses._ But there’s no turning back now, because he doesn’t want to walk double. Yuta can give himself all the excuses he wants in the world, but there is no denying that he’d simply _missed_ Taeyong in the middle of the night.

  Yuta worries at his bottom lip as he pushes open the door to the other bedroom, his pillow under his other arm. He slinks inside, and he doesn’t even know why he is doing such a thing. It is as if he wants to tease him, but that isn’t his intention. _I’m basically inviting him to… whatever._

  Yuta shakes off his slippers next to Taeyong’s beside the bed, lining his blue ones next to the obnoxious pink pair that Taeyong had originally wanted to get him. He stifles his laughter, finding it oddly endearing. He crawls onto the bed, and it dips under his weight. For a moment he is scared that Taeyong will wake up, but then he realizes if he does, he wouldn’t have to think of what to do himself. He could just go along with whatever Taeyong wants so he doesn’t need to hover around awkwardly.

  But at this seemingly crucial moment Taeyong is dead asleep, unmoving like a steady boulder even when Yuta tries to shove him to one side to make room for himself. He huffs, squeezing his pillow beside Taeyong’s, and juts out his bottom lip in disappointment when there isn’t enough space.

  Yuta decides that it doesn’t matter, then burrows into the covers. He tugs at the corner, hoping that Taeyong will wake and see that he is here. He doesn’t even groan and lets go of his blanket, not bothering to fight for it. Yuta thumps his back lightly, as if he is knocking on a door, but Taeyong stays asleep.

   _I wish I could sleep like this_ , Yuta sighs, a little upset. His fingers curl lightly into Taeyong’s shirt and still he doesn’t wake. _Maybe I shouldn’t disturb him since he’s going to work tomorrow._

  He pulls the blanket over himself, making sure that he isn’t hogging all of it. The bed is warmer than his own, and maybe that is why people like to sleep together. Yuta sighs, shifting to find a more comfortable position.

 _Am I actually welcome here?_ Yuta shakes his head. _He said he loves me. Taeyong doesn’t lie. He loves me._

-

  Unlike Taeyong, Yuta doesn’t know how to leave his side. In the morning he is still curled up behind Taeyong, his head already slid off the pillow.

  Taeyong opens his eyes and groans, slapping his hand onto the bedside table and fishing around for his phone to switch off his alarm. When he does he sits up and starts, registering the ball of warmth beside himself. For a moment he thinks he is still dreaming, but Yuta rolls over, turning to his side, then starts to occupy the space Taeyong has freed.

  Yuta is here, right next to him. He is so close, his mouth parted slightly, and he looks as relaxed as he could be. His hair is soft and messy, as is his small sigh of comfort.

  As if he has been possessed, Taeyong is drawn towards him like that night when he had brought him home drunk and asleep. But this time, it’s Yuta who had crawled into his bed in the middle of the night willingly, on his own, and Taeyong doesn’t know if that is something he should make him so terribly enthralled like he is right now.

  Yuta’s lips are pink and soft and he looks like he is smiling, so Taeyong thinks of kissing him like he had also thought of before. This time he does, unable to hold himself back from doing it.

  It’s _Yuta,_ Taeyong tells himself. _It’s not my fault if I can’t help it._ He settles down beside him at his place, leaning forward to press a light kiss on his lips. Taeyong shivers, jolts running down his spine. _Yuta._ He slips his arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

  At this moment, Taeyong would be satisfied even if Yuta tells him that he had accidentally sleepwalked here. He doesn’t need to know why he is here. He is here, and that is all that matters. Taeyong presses his nose into Yuta’s hair, breathing in the homely smell of their shampoo and kissing him atop his head. _He is so perfect._

  Taeyong thinks he’s realized what happiness feels like. It is as if he has never experienced it until today, and he had been missing out on so much. _So this is what it’s like… to wake up to something so beautiful. So it’s like this to wake up to someone you love._

  One day he will hold Yuta until he falls asleep, and he will hold him until it is morning, and he will wake up with him right in his arms.

  He noses at Yuta’s cheek, his skin so milky it feels like he smells of milk too. Taeyong doesn’t know how long he’s been staring, but only when Yuta stirs a little does he remember to ask _Why is he actually in my bed?_

  Taeyong _almost_ decides to stay at home for this. But his alarm goes off again, and he drags himself out of bed reluctantly. Taeyong pulls the blanket tightly around Yuta, tucking him in tighter even though there is no need for it. But he loves him, and he has told him that he loves him, so he will show him that he loves him.

-

  The bed is now cold because Taeyong’s gone. Yuta pulls the post-it off his forehead groggily, turning it over. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes to read it, clutching the blanket closer.

   _I had to leave for work :(_

_I’m coming back early today -- You give me no choice_

_Text me when you wake up?_

_ily_

_Taeyong_

   _What do you mean I give you no choice?_ Yuta yells embarrassedly in his head. He places the post-it on the table and picks up his phone, sighing. Of all the places he could have done it, Taeyong had to stick it onto his forehead. Sometimes Yuta doesn’t understand Taeyong at all. He unlocks his phone, and finds his chatroom with Taeyong.

   **_You [12:56]:_ ** _I woke up_

  There is no reply from Taeyong for a good ten minutes as he lies aimlessly in bed, so Yuta reckons he doesn’t have his phone with him. Just as he is about to put his phone down, it buzzes with a message.

   **_TY [13:13]:_ ** _Did you sleep well, love?_

   _Not ‘love’,_ Yuta wants to complain, but decides against it in the end, and he doesn’t ruin the mood.

**_You [13:15]:_ ** _mhm_

**_TY [13:15]:_ ** _You were with me this morning_

  Yuta blanches, his heart leaping to his throat, wondering what Taeyong thinks about it.

   **_You [13:17]:_ ** _I was_

**_TY [13:17]:_ ** _I love you_

**_TY [13:17]:_ ** _What do you want for dinner?_

  Yuta’s breath hitches in his throat, and he wonders what he should have replied if Taeyong isn’t this knowing and saved him from having to give any response to it.

   **_You [13:18]:_ ** _I want chicken_

**_TY [13:18]:_ ** _Alright, I’ll see what I can do_

   **_TY [13:18]:_ ** _I’ll call you when I leave work_

  Yuta puts down his phone and rolls over on his stomach, burying his face in the pillow and groaning into it. He gets up and fans his face uselessly with his hand, even more embarrassed for blushing this hard.

  The bed smells like Taeyong, his scent so strong it drowns him. For some time Yuta lets himself bask in it, knowing he could have it like this everyday if he simply nods once. Taeyong would gather him in his arms and he could sleep like that.

  He doesn’t know if Taeyong thought the same thing when he woke up.

-

  The doorbell rings and Yuta gets up from sitting in front of his desk, making his way outside. He opens the door and Taeyong is there, smiling. “I’m home!” He says, as if it calls for a celebration.

  “I _know_ that, Taeyong,” Yuta whispers, forcing down his own smile.

  Taeyong doesn’t seem to mind Yuta’s not very enthusiastic response, and the moment he puts down his briefcase he has Yuta wrapped up against him. Taeyong kisses him full on the lips, drawing an embarrassing sound out of Yuta. He has his arms around his waist and Yuta cannot escape, pressed up against Taeyong’s torso.

  Yuta grips the lapels of his suit jacket, holding on to Taeyong as he lets him kiss him again and again. All of his senses register only his mate and he doesn’t even notice it until Taeyong lifts him off his feet entirely. When he finally does let go of him Yuta stumbles. Taeyong grins at him and it is so terrifying to be held in this kind of regard, as if Taeyong can see nothing but him.

  He pulls off his tie and takes off his cuff links, still looking right at him. “What,” Yuta breathes, breathless.

  “Nothing special,” Taeyong answers easily. “You’re just beautiful.”

  Yuta cocks his head and raises a brow. “You are,” Taeyong says, shrugging. “I’m not going to lie.” Yuta swallows the lump in his throat silently, shaking his head.

  Taeyong smirks as if he already knows Yuta is scared of how it takes his breath away.

-

  “No, _wait_ ,” Yuta says, struggling to pull Taeyong back.

  “Come on, Yuta,” Taeyong laughs, “They’re not going to eat you up.”

  Yuta doesn’t budge and stays right at his spot. Taeyong laughs again at his exaggerated frown. “I’m right here,” he tells him.

  “That’s not the matter!” Yuta whines, but he cannot deny that it does make him feel better. Taeyong simply leaves him where he is, and walks to ring the doorbell.

  “No!” Yuta whisper-shouts, but the door swings open.

  “I’m here!” Taeyong yells cheerfully, stepping inside. Yuta has no choice but to follow him, fingers gripping at the hem of his shirt nervously.

  “H-Hi, I-” Yuta stutters, his words stuck in his throat. The woman at the door looks knowingly at him, and he thinks she already knows who he is.

  “Mom, this is Yuta,” he says, pushing him forward with a hand at the small of his back. It stays there, warm and steady.

  ”Yuta,” Taeyong’s mom smiles and says slowly, as if he is tasting the word in her mouth, “I’m finally seeing you in person.” Her voice is warm and welcoming, and Yuta finds himself in an embrace. He hugs her back, a little conscious of why this meeting took so long to actually happen.

  “I’m sorry, auntie,” he whispers, hoping Taeyong does not hear it.

  “That’s silly, dear,” she says, pinching his cheek, “It’s not your fault. And it’s ‘mom’ for you.”

  Yuta nods and bows nervously, and she laughs at him. “There’s no need to be so formal,” she says, “I already know all about you.” She gives Taeyong a look, and Yuta follows her gaze. Taeyong is looking at him, raising his eyebrows as if he is proud.

  “Oh,” he says dumbly. “Uh-”

  “Come inside,” Taeyong’s mom ushers them, rushing back inside the kitchen like she remembers something. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. Make yourself comfortable, Yuta!”

  “What about me?” Taeyong calls after her.

  “You can stay where you are!” She yells from inside, and Yuta fails to stifle his laugh.

-

  Yuta watches as Taeyong closes the door behind himself, walking closer. “I’m sorry there’s not much room here,” Taeyong apologizes, the gentle glow of the bed lamp softening his features. Yuta shakes his head, finding it stupid for him to be sorry.

  Taeyong sits down on the edge of the bed, making it dip under him. He reaches over to run a hand through his hair. “Did you eat well?” He asks.

  Yuta nods, closing his eyes as Taeyong’s fingers brush his cheek. “I can sleep outside if you want,” Taeyong tells him, “Mom is asleep already.” Very naturally she had told them to share a room, and none of them had the guts to tell her that they sleep separately. They simply nodded and Taeyong had taken him upstairs, telling him to get into bed first.

  “No,” Yuta whispers, then finds a lame excuse. “It’s your bed.”

  But Taeyong seems to find that a sufficient reason, so he passes a hand through his own hair and settles down beside him, grunting. They lie down side by side, their shoulders and arms touching. Taeyong is warm and it draws a sigh out of Yuta, diffusing in the darkness.

  They don’t speak for a while, but in the end Taeyong breaks the silence. “I know that it’s hard to fall asleep somewhere so unfamiliar.” He turns to him, lying on his side.

  Yuta reciprocates that action slowly, his hands placed awkwardly at his sides under the blanket so that he doesn’t touch Taeyong, and neither can Taeyong see that he is avoiding contact. He purses his lips, and Yuta isn’t going to tell him that it’s alright because he is here.

  “I hope you’re not too uncomfortable here,” he says, and Yuta shakes his head.

  “I’m not,” he tells him. _Thank god you didn’t decide to leave me alone here, or else I really can’t sleep._ This house smells different, but Taeyong’s scent is the same and as calming as it has always been. It is the most comforting thing there is right now, and Yuta is grateful for it.

  He doesn’t know why his heart is beating so quickly, nor why his intestines twist up at knowing that Taeyong’s mother is sleeping in the other room. She has been nothing but nice to him, and it feels like he owes her something for being so cold to Taeyong.

  So he watches Taeyong stare silently at him, wanting to touch but holding himself back. Yuta reaches for him under the blanket, hooking his arm around Taeyong’s and hugging it to his chest. Taeyong seems surprised by his gesture, but he composes himself quickly.

  “Hm?” He asks, but Yuta doesn’t give him an answer that he wants to hear.

  “I want to sleep,” Yuta tells him, instead of saying _I need you here to sleep well._ Taeyong searches his face, but he says nothing.

  “Talk to me,” Yuta whispers. “Make it feel better.”

  So Taeyong shifts closer and holds him with an arm around his waist when Yuta doesn’t push him away. He tells him about how he had fallen from his bicycle as a kid, how he had accidentally pushed Johnny into a river when they went fishing. He tells him many, many things that he won’t remember, but he sees him struggling to keep his eyes open and to listen to him.

  “Go to sleep, Yuta,” Taeyong says softly, cradling his head in the crook of his arm that will prick uncomfortably sooner or later. “Hmm?” He asks when Yuta says something that he can’t hear properly.

  “I’m listening,” Yuta slurs, his eyelids drooping and his voice laced with a heavy drowsiness.

  “Go to sleep,” Taeyong tells him again. “It’s okay.”

  “No,” Yuta breathes, his voice smaller and smaller. “I want to hear what you…”

  “Let’s save it for sometime later,” Taeyong tries to persuade him.

  Yuta’s fingers hook into the fabric of his shirt, tugging at it as if to object. But his eyes are closed and he has no energy left to speak, and only the tips of his fingers move. He slurs a little, incoherently, and Taeyong doesn’t answer him anymore. He simply hums lightly, stroking the back of his head.

  In a while Yuta is already asleep, his fingers loosening their grip on Taeyong’s shirt, slipping down. Taeyong smiles, heart full and warm. Sometimes Yuta shows his affection in the subtlest of ways, and he thinks he is starting to understand how moving his delicately muted expressions are.

-

  Yuta doesn’t know why, but Taeyong makes no move to sleep in one bed with him when they get home. He doesn’t offer, and Yuta doesn’t ask.

  But one of them has to say it first.

  “Sleep with me,” Yuta says one day, mustering up his courage for the first time. “I- I want to sleep with you.”

  Taeyong furrows his brows and cocks his head, and for a moment Yuta is scared he will politely decline. But it passes quickly and he smiles lightly. “Okay,” he says, his voice low. “I can do that.”

  Yuta lets out the breath he had been holding. _It’s not too bad like this_ , he thinks.

-

  “Good night,” Taeyong says, his voice muffled.

  “Good night,” Yuta replies, trying to keep his voice from trembling. He doesn’t know if Taeyong is facing him or not, he doesn’t want to know. Yuta pulls the blankets over his head to cover himself entirely because he feels too exposed. He is all too aware of Taeyong’s presence behind him, and he is kind of waiting for Taeyong to initiate some sort of contact. _So are we just going to sleep in the same bed without touching?_ He thinks, and is so terrified by his own thought he squirms.

  After a while, Taeyong speaks. “Are you asleep?” He asks. “Yuta?”

  Yuta stays silent for a few moments, then decide to answer him. “I am,” he says deliberately.

  “Can you turn over?” Taeyong asks softly. “I want to look at you.” Yuta’s heart leaps to his throat, and he almost forgets to breathe. “Maybe hold you if you want me to do it.”

  Yuta breathes in slowly, then he breathes out. He rolls over to his other side, finding Taeyong waiting. He smiles, and Yuta shivers. “Can I… Will you let me hold you?”

  “Okay,” Yuta whispers, “Okay.”

  Like a child given chocolate, Taeyong grins, and the corners of his eyes crinkle. He pulls Yuta close, like how he did it when they were at his old home, and Yuta’s breath hitches in his throat. His touches are so warm, so soft, it is going to melt him.

  Yuta shudders, his chest filled with an unknown mix of fear and happiness. He hoods his eyes, afraid to meet Taeyong’s gaze.

  Taeyong chuckles lightly. “I was just waiting for you to ask me yourself,” he tells him, as if he knows that Yuta wants to ask for the reason.

  He looks up, and Taeyong is still watching him fondly.

  Yuta purses his lips, and Taeyong reaches to touch his cheek. “You don’t know how many things I imagine you saying to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've been sleepy every time I wrote a bit of this chapter ヽ(。_°)ノ


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations to NCT for their win with Regular!!

  Yuta stops in his tracks, and Taeyong skids to a halt beside him. “What is it?” He asks.

  Yuta looks at the ice cream cone in his hand, then pushes it towards him.

  “Huh?” Taeyong raises an eyebrow in question. “Is it not good?” Yuta shakes his head and pushes it forward again. Taeyong takes it in confusion, not knowing what Yuta wants.

  “You have some too,” Yuta forces out of his throat, his voice small. He feels his cheeks heat up, and he doesn’t want Taeyong to see it. There is nowhere to hide, though.

  “You’re sharing?” Taeyong asks incredulously.

  “What do you mean?” Yuta snaps.

  “You never share your food with me,” Taeyong says deliberately, touching the tip of his nose teasingly.

  Yuta makes a frustrated sound almost like a child throwing a tantrum. “Eat it or give it back to me,” he says, furrowing his brows and holding out his hand.

  Taeyong laughs, diving into the sweet, and Yuta makes a face. Taeyong smiles at him, his eyes like two crescents. It makes Yuta blush, and Taeyong smirks. He takes the chance to pull Yuta closer, slipping an arm around his waist. Taeyong finds the suddenly shy way he holds himself adorable. “Closer,” he orders without much authority when Yuta attempts to lean away.

  Taeyong shakes his head at his action, and Yuta lips twitch. Taeyong kisses him, and he tastes like vanilla ice cream, his lips sticky, the lingering sensation new and sweet. He is so _eager_ , pressing forward continuously until Yuta is only held in place by his arm from falling. Yuta huffs embarrassedly, pushing Taeyong away despite the way his heart flutters happily. “There are _people_ here,” Yuta hisses, glancing around the mall where nobody is really paying attention to them, the tips of his ears red. “There are so many people here.”

  “Does that mean I can do that at home?” Taeyong asks, unfazed. He stands before Yuta, all smiley like he didn’t just do something borderline publicly indecent. _Okay,_ Yuta admits, _I’m just embarrassed._

  “ _No_ ,” Yuta grits out between his teeth.

  “Ahh,” Taeyong drawls, teasing him. “Is my pretty omega shy?”

  Yuta pushes his hand away, his cheeks red. He purses his lips and says nothing, glaring at Taeyong.

  Taeyong laughs and ignores him, leaning in again to kiss him. “You!” Yuta starts, cut off when Taeyong seals his lips. “Taeyong!” He pays him no heed and forces him back, kissing him so hard Yuta is scared. “Stop- It’s melting!”

  Taeyong grinds his teeth together, pulling back. “You- Yuta, you’re the worst.” He licks the cone to get rid of the dripping ice cream spilling onto his hand, then gives it back to Yuta. “You let an _ice cream cone_ ruin my kiss.” He frowns in mock anger, and Yuta feels bad and complacent at the same time.

  “I did,” he says, challenging. “What are you going to do about it?”

  To his surprise, Taeyong breaks into a grin at that.

-

  “What’s your home number?” Yuta asks.

  “It’s _our_ home number,” Taeyong says, pretending to be upset. “You’re supposed to remember it!”

  Taeyong furrows his brows when he sees the form Yuta is writing on, crowded with a mass of words. “What are you filling in?”

  Yuta smiles awkwardly, attempting to cover the title. Taeyong clicks his tongue lightly, then sits down across from him. “Is it really something that you don’t want me to know about?”

  The question seems to render Yuta speechless, and he opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. “No- It’s not that-” Yuta sighs, closes the form to the front page. He turns it over and pushes it towards Taeyong, pursing his lips.

  He chews on the end of his pen nervously while Taeyong reads the cover, frowning in concentration. He looks up at him when he does, and Yuta doesn’t know what that is in his eyes.

  Taeyong raises an eyebrow when he flips through its contents. “Are you sure?” He asks, and Yuta simply gives him a plaintive look. Taeyong seems to be holding a smile in, so Yuta stops biting on his pen.

  He chuckles, and Taeyong gives him a look. “You need my signature for this,” he says flatly, “And you’re not going to tell me about this.”

  “I _will!_ ” Yuta says incredulously. “I wanted it to be-”

  “To be what?” Taeyong asks, pushing his form back.

  “...wanted it to be a-” Yuta stops, pursing his lips. The word ‘surprise’ doesn’t make it out of his mouth, and he swallows it whole. Perhaps to Taeyong it isn’t important enough to be considered a surprise.

  But Taeyong doesn’t seem to mind his unconcluded answer. It says in bold on the cover, _Health Care Advance Directive Form_ and he reads it again in case he’s hallucinated.

  Yuta raises his eyebrows tentatively, apprehensive as if asking, _Is that...okay?_ Taeyong smiles, and Yuta’s heart skips a beat.

  Taeyong gets up from his seat, laughing to himself like a mad person. _He’s going out of his mind_ , Yuta thinks, watching him walk over.

  “T-Taeyong, what are you-” Taeyong grabs him from his seat and picks him up entirely, making him gasp in surprise. Taeyong carries him to the couch while Yuta kicks frantically. “Taeyong!” He doesn’t care for it, and he borderline tackles Yuta down on the couch.

  Yuta’s breath hitches in his throat, and Taeyong has him trapped against the sofa, arms planted on each side of him so he cannot escape. “ _Taeyong_ ,” Yuta whispers involuntarily, hands reaching to touch his face. Taeyong is so close, and Yuta’s fingers skim over his cheeks. He looks so happy, Yuta’s heart races crazily.

  “Listen. I love you,” Taeyong says, grinning, “I really do.”

  Yuta lets an embarrassing whimper slip when Taeyong kisses him. He doesn’t kiss him back like he almost never does, only letting Taeyong have his way with him. But this time Yuta has his hands cupping Taeyong’s face, pulling him closer, and he trembles uncontrollably, as if electricity is running through his veins.

  Taeyong kisses him tirelessly, again and again, until he is short of breath. Taeyong lets him off then, dropping on top of him. He kisses his neck, littering small kisses all over his skin while chuckling under his breath, and Yuta almost cries.

   _How much…_ He finds himself thinking, _does he have to love me to be this happy?_ Secretly he hopes it’s a lot.

-

  “Hey, it’s Johnny,” Yuta hears when he picks up the phone, and he hums in reply. “Are you with Taeyong? Can you get him on the phone?”

  “Oh- But he’s at work,” Yuta answers. “Maybe you can call the office?”

  “I’m at the office,” Johnny says in confusion. “He’s not at work today.”

  “What?” Yuta asks, thinking that he heard Johnny wrong. “B-But he said he’s at work today.”

  “He’s not here,” Johnny says, and Yuta can hear the growing confusion in his voice. Yuta furrows his brows, worried. “Nevermind, I’ll call you again if I see him.”

  “...Okay,” Yuta says, “Bye.” He puts down the phone and wonders where Taeyong’s gone. It’s noon already, and supposedly he’s been at work for a while. Yuta tries to push it to the back of his mind, but he ended up dialing thirty calls to Taeyong during the day, each more frantic than the previous.

-

  “You should have _said_ something!” Yuta cries, and he wipes his eyes with the back of his hands roughly. “Nobody knew where you were!”

  Taeyong reaches for him but Yuta flings his hand away. “I- I couldn’t call you and you’re nowhere! You weren’t at home and you weren’t at work! It’s _one_ in the morning now and I shouldn’t yell but- _Where were you?_ ”

  Tears stream down his cheeks and Taeyong is at a loss for words. He grabs Yuta despite his struggles, trapping him against himself. “I’m sorry,” he keeps on saying, pressing kisses on Yuta’s cheek and ear to soothe him. “I’m sorry I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Yuta lets out a soft cry, fingers curling into the hem of Taeyong’s shirt. Yuta’s scent is a sign of his distress, and Taeyong rubs his back, alternating between roughly because he is panicky and lightly because he’s afraid it would hurt. Yuta’s sobs become lighter as if he is embarrassed for being so affected.

  Taeyong slips his hand into his hair, and Yuta whines, the sound muffled in his neck. He whines, as if Taeyong would understand it as _Why did you make me so afraid?_

  “I was at Jaehyun’s because he was an irresponsible midday drunk. My phone is dead. I expected to come home to you asleep,” Taeyong admits guiltily, his voice quiet. “I didn’t know.”

  Yuta looks at him, eyes brimming with tears, and he lets himself be honest for once. “I couldn’t sleep,” he whispers pathetically, admitting that he had been waiting helplessly, and Taeyong’s expression soften even more at his barely audible confession.

-

  When Taeyong makes sure that Yuta had been scared, he asks him what he had answered that night when Yuta went out and got drunk, coming home all honesty and soft voice and light touches.

  “Were you worried?” He asks him, reliving how his heart had trembled in his chest when the question slipped out of Yuta’s mouth. How he had realized he loves him more than he thought he did. And he wants Yuta to experience that kind of realization too. “Were you worried about me?”

  It had caught him off guard, sent him reeling. And Yuta had coupled it with his honey voice and a light furrow of his brows, insisting, needing an answer. Taeyong has always wondered if Yuta remembers asking that, and if he had any idea what he had been talking about.

  Most of the time Taeyong would think he is the only one who loves Yuta, and Yuta doesn’t love him back. Perhaps it is a very daring conclusion to come to, a very wild assumption, but he thinks that there isn’t anything in the world that can drive someone into asking that question if they did not care.

  Yuta had wanted to know if he was worried, and Taeyong didn’t understand why it had affected him so much. But he can read into it properly now as he says it out loud himself, and he can finally register that underlying question in the guise of something small.

   _Do you love me?_ Yuta had wanted to ask, and he knows for sure that it is what he had wanted him to read his question as, because that is all he wants Yuta to answer right now.

   _Do you worry about me? Do you think for me like I do for you?_

-

  Yuta’s heart stops, white noise filling his head. His blood runs cold when he realizes — _I do._

   _I worried._ Tears well at the back of his eyes but he forces them down. It is a good enough indicator that he loves Taeyong back, but he doesn’t like to admit it. He doesn’t know why, but he wants his confession to be forced out of him. He wants to keep it inside until he can’t help himself anymore.

   _But I love him._ Yuta meets Taeyong’s expectant gaze, and he can’t but tell him, “I think I did.” His voice is a whisper, and his lips are trembling. He bites down on it to compose himself, but there is no use in doing it. Taeyong already knows. Even though he hasn’t given the direct answer Taeyong wants to hear, he knows that he already knows what it means. He cannot be certain because Yuta has never said anything definite about it, but he knows. At least, there is a little chance that he reciprocates a fraction of that warm affection.

  Taeyong smiles lightly, his gaze soft. “I’m sorry for making you worry,” he says. “But I’m glad you worried.”

   _Is this what he had felt?_ Scared, like a deer caught in the headlights, his most disguised emotion laid out bare in the open for everyone to see. But most of all it is that sheer stark and naked feeling of being vulnerable because of it. And he had realized himself — had let it sink in properly — that he does, in fact, love him back. There is nothing worse and better than that, and it feels as if his heart is wrenched out of his chest.

  Yuta gulps, anxious with no reasonable explanation. Right here he has someone who loves him, someone who tells him he loves him all the time, but he is still nervous at — _crushed by_ recognizing his little devoted penchant for him. Yuta closes his eyes, and breathes slowly to calm himself down. This is _nothing_ , he tells himself. _If he can say it, I can too._

  But that does not change the fact that the words cannot make it out of his mouth, and he needs Taeyong to compel him into saying it. Yet Taeyong _just_ isn’t that kind of person. Taeyong is the kind of person who will wait patiently, wait for Yuta to keep up with his steps with a gentle smile, but all Yuta wants him to do — sometimes he just wants to be kissed senseless.

  He feels Taeyong’s hand on his cheek, tilting his head up and leaning in close. He stops, a second away from meeting Yuta’s lips, and he looks up.

-

  Yuta’s eyelashes flutter, and suddenly he meets his gaze, realizing in surprise that Taeyong isn’t leaning in anymore. He opens his mouth slightly then seems to remember that there is nothing for him to be upset about, then closes it again. He purses his lips, embarrassed.

  But Taeyong hadn’t really decided not to kiss him at the last moment. He’d simply wanted to see him like this. He wants this kind of reaction from Yuta. He wants to see Yuta disappointed when he doesn’t kiss him, wants Yuta to realize that he was eager, he was expecting something. And Taeyong is proud — smug, even — when Yuta responds just the way he wants him to.

  He closes the distance between them when Yuta is still caught up in his upset, and he whimpers in surprise when Taeyong pushes him back. He gasps lightly against Taeyong’s lips, and Taeyong kisses him harder, wanting more and more, like he will never be satisfied.

  Some time earlier, he would have been scared that it is always him who is too into Yuta. But now… he doesn’t know. He doesn’t care for it anymore, and all he wants is for Yuta to know that he loves him.

-

  They are at the amusement park for the first time in years, because Ten had wanted to go.

  Ten and Jaehyun are leading them towards yet another terrifying ride, Taeyong telling them to slow down, and Johnny is lagging behind with him.

  “You should talk to him more when you’re with other people,” Johnny says casually, “He looks afraid to speak to you in public like you always ignore him here.”

  Yuta is a bit taken aback. “I do,” he admits sheepishly, “How did you know?”

  “It doesn’t hurt to pay attention.” Johnny smiles. He pushes Yuta forward. “Come on, let’s catch up with them,” he says, laughing when they scramble into line. “I don’t think they’re making any effort to wait for us.” He lengthens his strides and Yuta almost fails to follow his pace.

  “Wait for _me_ ,” Yuta calls after Johnny, “I have little legs.” Johnny bursts out laughing, face buried in his palm.

-

  Jaehyun looks at him a little wistfully, and Yuta walks up to him. “What?” Yuta asks, squishing his cheeks with one hand. He looks like an abandoned puppy with that pout.

  Jaehyun doesn’t say anything for a while, but in the end he speaks up. “...I just- just want to love somebody like Taeyong hyung loves you.”

  Yuta is torn between blushing and telling him _Don’t say shit like that,_ but he chooses neither. He simply furrows his brows and gives Jaehyun a meaningless but meaningful-looking glance, then releases him. “You will,” he tells Jaehyun.

  Jaehyun raises his eyebrows as if to tell him, _Whatever you say_ sarcastically. Yuta shrugs, and he just wants this conversation to be over with. Most of the time he is less than comfortable talking to Jaehyun about Taeyong, because he is too straightforward and he says things as he sees them.

  Someone taps his shoulder and he looks back, and suddenly Taeyong is back beside him. Taeyong has his hand on Yuta’s elbow, guiding him through the crowd. He hands him the cotton candy and their eyes meet for a moment, then Yuta immediately looks away. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

  “You’re welcome,” Taeyong says, and Yuta hates how civil they are. He focuses on the sticky pink swirl in front of him, picking bits of it out with two fingers.

  It is much sweeter than he thought it would be, when the sugar in his mouth melts. He glances at Taeyong out of the corner of his eye, the other seems to be following him aimlessly. Yuta didn’t know where he is going either.

  “Do you want some?” he asks, still looking ahead.

  “Huh?”

  Yuta stops in his tracks and Taeyong almost bumps into him. He plucks a generous share and offers it to Taeyong awkwardly. “Here,” he says, not looking at him, “Take it.”

  Taeyong looks as though Yuta just gave him a diamond ring. Inside his head, Yuta laughs, calling him stupid. Taeyong stuffs it into his mouth and hums in satisfaction. He licks his fingers, and Yuta unconsciously mimics his movements.

  A hand raised to his mouth, Yuta sucks on his own digits. It tastes sweeter than it was before, so sweet it feels decadent.

-

  Taeyong _has_ to banter with Jaehyun.

  He takes Taeyong’s hand. “Come on,” he says, “Stop fooling around.” Taeyong squeezes his hand and smiles. His palm is warm and rough and Yuta feels like he is melting, so he shifts his weight from his left foot to his right and then back again. Jaehyun looks at them and smirks, and Yuta averts his eyes. “Come on,” he says again, tugging at Taeyong’s arm a little.

  “Whatever,” Taeyong tells Jaehyun. “Bye.”

  “Bye, loser,” Jaehyun says, sticking out his tongue childishly. But he waves them goodbye and leaves, and suddenly they are alone.

  Taeyong puts a hand behind his neck, pulling him closer and hugging him tightly. Yuta jumps when Taeyong kisses his temple, fingers brushing against his nape. “Yuta,” he whispers right into his ear, breath stirring his hair.

  “Yeah?” He answers quietly, still frozen on the spot. There are so many people around them, and even though they might not be paying any attention to them, he is still conscious of the minimal distance between them.

  “I think,” he says, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “They all want a bit of you.”

  “Who?” Yuta asks, relaxing slowly. He rests his chin on Taeyong’s shoulder, breathing in his scent. It feels refreshing with the crowd and the overwhelming mix of scents in the amusement park.

  “Everybody,” he says. “I can’t let my guard down.” Taeyong laughs, as if he thinks he is being ridiculous as well. He winds his arms around Yuta’s waist, hauling him even closer.

  “Do you want to get some yugwa?”

  “What is that?” Yuta asks, feeling Taeyong’s heartbeat, and he can’t listen to anything else properly.

  “You’ve never had it?” Taeyong asks incredulously, and when Yuta shakes his head, he looks shocked. “It’s a kind of cookie? Made from rice? It’s fried. And sweet.” Yuta shakes his head to all of the descriptions again, and Taeyong pouts in disappointment. “Let’s buy some later. It’s my favourite.”

  Yuta jots it down in his mind, even though he doesn’t know how long this mental note will last. “What else do you like?” He asks, and Taeyong holds his hand again, leading him away from the spot they had been lingering at for a while.

  “I like the sweet snacks,” he says, “Honey rice cakes. Chapssaltteok? They’re the Korean equivalent of mochi. And I like Japanese desserts too, because they’re really sweet. Do you know that very pretty one, the transparent one? Is it… mizu shingen…?”

  “Yeah,” Yuta breathes, “I know how to make that.”

  Taeyong’s brows raise at that. “You do?” He asks, and he knows it is just agar, but it’s the first time he’s hearing Yuta talk about what he knows in the kitchen. Yuta looks pleased and happy, so he loves whatever he is thinking about already.

  “My dad likes it too. Well, it’s just agar, so I thought it would be easy for me to learn how to make it,” he says what’s on Taeyong’s mind. “And I wanted to make it for my dad, so I went and learned. _Tried_ to learn.”

  “Did he like it?” Taeyong asks, and Yuta laughs at that.

  “He said I might be better off being the one who eats instead of cook,” he tells him, “So I watched him and I kept on trying, but they turn out to be puddles most of the time.”

  “I like daifuku too. Chocolate strawberries. Dorayaki.” Yuta doesn’t like confectioneries a lot, but hearing Taeyong list them out reminds him of how the cotton candy sugar had melted in his mouth. It spreads a warm and sweet pleasure through his body starting from his chest. It makes the tips of his fingers tingle and he holds Taeyong’s hand tighter.

  “Dango. Kanten. Konpeito. Wagashi,” Taeyong goes on as if he were on a roll, and Yuta laughs to himself because Taeyong sounds like a small child reciting easy Japanese words. Then he suddenly stops and cocks his head a little, smiling. “You.”

  Yuta gulps, eyes wide.

  The yellowish lights behind Taeyong gives him an illusion that he is back in Japan, at one of those traditional streets where he can buy all the candy Taeyong’s mentioned. He can feel the smooth rice-flour in the palm of his hand, the soft tug of its elasticity when he wraps up the filling with it, becoming a little bulging ball of happiness in the form of a tooth-rotting sweet that is eerily similar to how his heart feels now. It’s funny how he can suddenly remember the classes he took when he was a kid, when he could never recall the memory exactly. Taeyong would like a pink one that looks like a cherry blossom, he thinks. _No… A baby blue flower with yellow stamen. Or maybe he’d settle for a cute one that is an animal. Probably a bunny rabbit at that. But then perhaps he wouldn’t eat it because he’d feel bad._

  Yuta has never tasted anything sweeter than a wagashi. Maybe except the way Taeyong looks at him. It makes him scared that he will fall too deep into it and he won’t stop himself even though he knows he might have to pull out a tooth or two. He had never cared for how his creations look and he has always been careless — they were going to be eaten anyway. _But with Taeyong..._ a funny thought sprouts in his head that Taeyong will click his tongue and take his hand holding the wooden triangle stick, mumbling about how sloppy he is with his cheek pressed to his ear while etching perfect lines into the rice-flour skin.

  Maybe he will kiss him on his temple when he leaves him to work alone again. “I’m not sweet, though,” Yuta manages to say, his heart in his throat.

  Taeyong looks at him with a mysteriously fond smile. “You are,” he says, “You just don’t know it.”

  “Otherwise, I wouldn’t feel this way looking at you.” He kisses the back of Yuta’s hand, lips brushing against his knuckles, then he bites on his fingertips playfully. "You should know that. I want you to know that."


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Yuta  
> Good things happen on birthdays, so here is an update that is a new milestone  
> Been waiting for ages to post this

  It is very scary to admit that you love a person, no matter how strongly you feel. Yuta doesn’t know how Taeyong did it.

  It is especially terrifying when Taeyong corners him because he’s realized that. And when he crowds him to the edge of the bed, displeased at his shying away.

  “Taeyong,” Yuta hisses.

  “What?” He asks deliberately, reaching under his shirt and grabbing his waist hard.

  “Stop it,” he says, and he is not convincing at all.

  “You need to put on some weight,” Taeyong says, clicking his tongue. “Come here. Closer.”

  Yuta doesn’t budge and Taeyong shifts closer on his own. “Look at the bed on your other side,” Yuta whispers, leaning back and Taeyong smiles knowingly, but still never lets him go. “You’re hogging.”

  Taeyong’s brain works a little faster and smarter than it usually does. “You’re mine anyway,” he says, deliberately changing the subject they are referring to. “Only mine. That’s not hogging.”

  Taeyong’s been more forward lately, and Yuta doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or not even though he thoroughly enjoys it.

-

  Taeyong would squeeze into the bathroom with him in the morning, tailing him despite his objections. He brushes his teeth with an arm around Yuta, resting on his hip and pressed against the counter. Like a normal couple in a typical lazy morning. And so would he at night, just before they head to bed.

  At some point, his next goal would be to barge into the shower with him. Yuta shudders when he thinks about it.

  Yuta has a very systematic way of brushing his teeth, and sometimes Taeyong will remember to imitate him, watching his movements in the mirror, right to left, down to up.

  He also has a very bad habit of leaving toothpaste on the corner of his mouth and making it messier when Taeyong tells him he does.

-

  “Sloppy,” Taeyong comments, wiping it off for him. “I’m going to think you’re doing this deliberately,” he warns. His thumb lingers at the corner of his mouth, then moves slowly to trace the bow of his lips.

  His finger dips into his mouth only for a brief moment, but it is purposeful and deliberate to catch him off guard, and it makes electricity run down Yuta’s spine. His breath hitches in his throat, and he lets out a small sound of surprise.

  “Cutiepie,” Taeyong whispers when he does, his voice low. He watches Yuta’s reaction, pleased. “Yuta,” he says, “Yuta.”

  Yuta blinks slowly, the lights too dim for it to be any good. “Hm?” He hums, but Taeyong leans in, and Yuta instinctively stops speaking and closes his eyes in anticipation.

  He stops one millimeter from him, grinning mischievously like a child who has just pulled a prank. He _is_ a child who’d just pulled a prank.

  Taeyong laughs at his surprised expression, then surges to kiss him when he is still caught up in it.

  And his kisses.

-

  One day Yuta comes home to Taeyong scarfing down _instant noodles_ as if he has never seen food before, and he laughs, throwing his keys down casually. “Why are you so hungry?” Yuta asks, unable to keep his laughter out of his voice.

  “I didn’t have lunch,” Taeyong mumbles around a mouthful.

  “Really?” Yuta asks, “Why?” He sits down across from him, finding it adorable how he inhales his bowl of ramen.

  “Too much to do today at the office. So stressed.”

  Yuta doesn't know what possessed him to ask this, but he says, “Can I do anything to help?”

  Taeyong looks up, chewing. Then he beckons him over. “Rub my back a little,” he says, and Yuta shuffles over. He places his hands on Taeyong’s shoulders gingerly.

  “Really?” Yuta asks, not knowing why he has to.

  “If it’s not going to kill me then do it,” Taeyong says, drawing a small laugh out of Yuta.

  He is still in his white shirt, the smooth fabric making his hands slip. Yuta massages his shoulders, and both of them stay silent for a while. Then Taeyong suddenly reaches for his hand, pulling it forward and turning his head to press a kiss onto the back. Yuta shivers, taken by surprise.

  “W-What are you doing?” He asks, his movements stopping and his hands resting lightly on his shoulders.

  Taeyong is unfazed and calm as he continues to eat. “I love you,” he says, his voice muffled.

-

  “No,” he says, hand slipping around his leg at the knee and holding him in place. “Don’t go.” Yuta stumbles when Taeyong pulls him closer, then steadies himself promptly.

  “I need to turn off the washing machine,” Yuta says, and Taeyong promptly ignores the beeping sound.

  “Here,” he looks up, expectant. Taeyong pats his thigh, motioning for him to sit. “Come here.”

  Taeyong is waiting, hopeful.

  Yuta can’t find it in himself to deny Taeyong this. He lowers himself gingerly, and Taeyong grins, guiding him even closer. In a moment his arms are winded around his waist and Yuta has never really felt like this before.

  He sees Taeyong everyday, Taeyong touches him all the time, occasionally telling him that he loves him without much response but he still wants to do it. But Yuta doesn’t think there's really anything that can compare to how Taeyong rests his head on his shoulder now, finding comfort in him.

  Yuta puts an arm around Taeyong while he nuzzles into him, making a pleased sound. His tie is loosened and collar button open, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. But at this moment he is so much like a child Yuta cannot help but hum a little, pushing his fingers into his hair.

  “I never knew it would feel so good,” Taeyong mumbles, his lips moving on his neck and making him squirm.

  “What would?”

  “Having you in my lap,” he answers honestly. He pulls back and looks at Yuta in the eye, searching his face. “You smell so good. So soft like you just came out of the shower.” Yuta puts a hand over Taeyong’s mouth in embarrassment, stopping him from continuing to say anything else.

  He is so easily abashed these days.

  “I’ve always wanted to hold you like this,” he says, voice muffled. “Like I can wrap all of you up in me. Like there is only me for you.”

  Yuta doesn’t know what got into him at that moment, but he can’t hold himself back from telling Taeyong, “There _is_ only you for me.”

-

  Though he has said things like that — yes, he is avoiding Taeyong.

  Yuta likes to think he is resolute, never half-hearted. But that only seems to apply to other people. With Taeyong he doesn’t know what he wants nor does he have that kind of confidence.

  Taeyong is so cautious with him, and now he knows it’s partly his fault.

  Sleeping in the other room seems too much like rejection. Too much like he is saying _I’d rather sleep without you._ But tonight he is a little overwhelmed, and he doesn’t know how to face Taeyong like this.

  This is stupid, but so is he, so he guesses it doesn’t hurt to add a tad bit more onto it. He just really, really hates to admit it, but he is scared he can’t hold himself together anymore and he is falling into pieces.

  Yuta eases out of Taeyong’s loose hold, heading towards the living room. It is dark and there is a light chill from the changing weather.

   _I think I love him…?_ Yuta purses his lips, hesitant but he is already out here. He needed some time to think and be alone, but now he is longing to be next to Taeyong again.

   _I can’t do it like this_ , he scolds himself, shaking out the folded blanket and settling down on the sofa. _Keep yourself together._

-

  The small shuffling continues, and Yuta turns over.

  Yuta watches as Taeyong drops his pillow on the floor. Taeyong settles down and pulls the blanket over himself, and Yuta rolls to the other side so he doesn’t have to face him. “What are you doing here?”

  He hears some more shuffling before he gets his answer. “I’m not sure why you don’t want to sleep with me,” Taeyong says, the darkness amplifying his voice. “But I’m not going to let you sleep alone.”

  A wave of guilt washes over Yuta, and the little wall he has built around himself these few days comes crumbling down. “Don’t sleep on the floor,” he says.

  “Are you looking out for me?”

  Yuta hesitates. “Yes,” he says, and it feels a bit heavy like giving up. Taeyong is silent, obviously not expecting him to answer honestly and without any sort of sarcasm.

  “Come up,” he says, his voice so soft and hesitant he isn’t sure if he even said it out loud. For a moment he wishes Taeyong didn’t hear it, but that moment ends pretty quickly, because suddenly there is a warm body lining up behind him, and his whole being tenses up.

  Taeyong drapes an arm over his waist. “Is this okay?” he asks. Yuta doesn’t know why he is asking tonight out of every night, when he had done this without any hesitation at all.

  “O-Okay,” he replies, the words almost stuck in his throat. The space on the sofa is limited, and Taeyong is probably already doing his best to keep them apart.

   _Or not_ , because his arm around Yuta’s waist tighten and he hauls him backwards. Yuta’s legs kick in surprise. “What-”

  Taeyong cuts him off. “I can’t get a wink of sleep knowing you’re out here on your own,” he says, his breath stirring Yuta’s hair.

  _But I’m not going to sleep well if you’re here!_ Yuta thinks, hyper aware of Taeyong’s fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt and _God_ ,he smells so good.

  Yuta forgets that he is supposed to hate this, and he is terrified by how much he wants to lean back into Taeyong.

  _This is stupid_ , he thinks, _there’s a bed but both of us are sleeping out here._

-

  Evidently, Yuta knows himself quite well and he isn’t able to sleep until a long time later even though his eyelids are weighed down with lead.

  Somewhere in the middle of the night he turns to his other side, and he wakes up cradled in Taeyong’s arms, head tucked in the crook of his neck and shoulder. Despite only getting two hours of sleep into himself, his brain is awake enough to process the situation. He looks over Taeyong’s shoulder at the clock on the wall, and he has an hour before he needs to leave for class. Yuta is torn between going back to sleep because it’s so comfortable or screaming and sending Taeyong off the sofa with a flying kick like how an anime girl does.

  He sighs and closes his eyes. _Homo sapiens are born lazy. Nevermind_ , he thinks, and he can’t escape without waking Taeyong up, with an arm pillowed under Yuta’s head and the other wrapped around his back. There is no space for him to move back because he is sandwiched between Taeyong and the back of the couch. He can give himself all the excuses he wants, but he knows it’s because he feels warm and it’s horribly satisfying to be held like this.

  Like he is the most precious thing in the world.

   _Maybe it’s because it’s Taeyong_ , his mind suggests happily, and his body almost convulses in rejection to this thought. _Ew, disgusting._ _No,_ he hits himself in his mind, _no, no, no._

-

  Yuta is a bit off, he has been for days. “What’s been bothering you?” Taeyong asks, touching the tip of his nose, “Tell me.”

  “Nothing,” Yuta replies, still focused on his nails.

  Taeyong takes Yuta’s hand in his to stop him from playing with his fingers. “I can’t read your mind, but at moments like these I wish I could.” He makes Yuta look at him and continues, “I don’t know if you’re not happy, or if something’s got you bothered. And it’s okay if you’re angry at me, or if there’s any other reason why you’re upset, but I want to know what it is.”

  “It’s nothing,” he repeats, closing his eyes and resting his head on Taeyong’s chest. But it is as if Taeyong has already voiced out the truth and he has no reason to hide it anymore, so the crease between his eyebrows deepen.

  But Taeyong always has a way with him, and in no time he has given in.

  “This is too stupid to say out loud,” he cries.

  Taeyong wraps his arms around Yuta’s waist. “It’s not stupid if it makes you unhappy.”

  “Now look at me and tell me what’s wrong.”

-

  “I used to think it’s my omega genes conditioning me to think this way,” Yuta says honestly, his train of thought skittering on its tracks violently. “But now I’ve accepted it, or I can’t not accept it because it’s true — it doesn’t matter. What I want to say is, and this is pathetic, is-”

  He sucks in a breath and pauses. “Okay, honestly this is not important.”

  “It is,” Taeyong insists, squeezing his thigh to encourage him, “Tell me. It’s okay.”

  “Listen I’m going to say this once only, I- ugh, this is so embarrassing.”

  It is cute and unsettling, the way Yuta hesitates and stops at the important part again and again. It makes him uneasy, knowing his omega wants to hide from him. He doesn’t push him too much, though, he only wants to see the tension in his shoulders seep away, so he leans in to kiss him.

  Yuta stops him with a hand on his mouth like he sometimes would, but this time he doesn’t laugh at his surprised expression. “I know this is stupid, but- but sometimes I have this very bad thought that I- want to be _coddled_ ,” he says in a whisper, so soft that Taeyong almost missed it. He emphasizes his words like it is the most revolting sentence he has ever spoken. And honestly, Taeyong just finds it adorable.

  They stop, and Yuta seems to find that resembling something like rejection. “I- I’m just saying-“ Yuta stutters, thinking that Taeyong will find it weird.

  “ _That_ is what you’ve been brooding over for so long?” Taeyong asks incredulously, looking like _Why do you have the nerve to think that?_

  “I-I know!” Yuta says, panicking. “I _know_ it’s stupid that’s why-“

  “You don’t know what I would give to spoil you,” Taeyong says, half relieved that it’s not something he can’t solve. “You stupid little-“ He ends with a sigh, shaking his head.

  “You don’t know how much it took me to say that,” Yuta frowns, but lets Taeyong pull him closer. The rims of his eyes are a bit red, so Taeyong rubs circles into his back. “I know thinking like that is stupid.”

  “That is _not_ stupid. What made you think that way? You deserve to be pampered.” Taeyong smiles when Yuta purses his lips. “Don’t try to disagree with me.”

  “I deserve to be pampered,” Yuta repeats softly, as if Taeyong had just told him the most unbelievable thing in the entire world.

  “You do,” he tells him. Yuta looks down and shakes his head slightly. “You do,” he tells him again.

  His eyelashes cast shadows over his face, and Taeyong squeezes his hand gently because he is too beautiful to be upset. “But I am no good to you.”

  “I’m not gentle,” Yuta admits, “I don’t know how to express myself but I want you to automatically understand me even when I don’t tell you anything. But that’s not going to happen, is it. Sometimes I know that I’m being too much. You see I know for a reason that I definitely, do not deserve to be given this much love.”

  “I don’t have anything I can give to you, and I used to think it’s fine because you owe me for marking me without me agreeing to it. You’ve given me so much though. You’re kind and you’re patient to me, but I’m still not satisfied. I want you to be good only to me.”

  He looks Taeyong in the eyes and cocks his head to one side thoughtfully. “It isn’t reasonable to ask that of you.” Yuta laughs when Taeyong’s face scrunches up. “I know, I know,” he drawls, “I know what you’ll say.”

  “You’ll say it’s fine, but it isn’t.” Taeyong opens his mouth to speak but Yuta shushes him.

  “My mother said nobody’s going to take care of you except for yourself.” He looks Taeyong in the eyes, something he is rarely able to do without averting his gaze in three seconds. “I know she loves me, and so does my father. And even they have never, ever spoiled me.”

  “So tell me what makes you so confident you can do it.”

  “I don’t know why you think all of this, Yuta,” Taeyong says. “I want you to remember that I love you.”

  Taeyong purses his lips, and Yuta thinks it is the first time he has seen Taeyong upset like this. “I really, really love you, and I don’t want you thinking you don’t deserve the things that you want. I’m not sure how else to put it, and I know I might be speaking of myself too highly but- I don’t want you to go thinking that you are not worthy of my love. You are worth every bit of it, and I will… I will be unhappy if you doubt that, okay?”

-

  Yuta rolls onto his side and in the darkness he can only make out the shape of Taeyong’s eyes. “What do I do,” he asks lowly in a whisper, “When I’m thinking too much and I can’t fall asleep?”

  Taeyong’s arm circles his waist, the warmth and weight familiar as if he had done this a thousand times before. “I don’t know if it works for you,” he says in a breathy voice, like a steamy shower that gets rid of all his fatigue in the day, “But I remember that you’re mine, and nothing else in the world matters, and I can sleep with no worries.”

  “...” Yuta blinks slowly, “You sap.”

  There are too many things to be said and not enough words to describe how insanely beautiful Yuta is to him. Taeyong contemplates what to tell him.

  _I love how your eyes crinkle when you smile and the bow of your lips and the little scrunch of your nose you do out of habit. I love your hair and voice and your touch and the way you hold yourself. I want your good days and your bad days and everything that has to do with you. I want to be the first one you run to no matter if you’re experiencing highs or lows. I want you to know even if you think I’m out of my mind I am not lying when I say that you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me._

  _You are the most beautiful person in the entire world, because you are my mate. Because-_

  “I love you,” he tells him. Because that is what it all boils down to.

  “You know that I love you.”

  Yuta purses his lips, then slowly winds his arms around Taeyong’s neck. This is the first time he’s ever been the one to initiate a hug with Taeyong, and it feels more intimate than anything they have ever done. Taeyong’s hand at the small of his back makes Yuta’s breath hitch in his throat, and it comes out as a soft and embarrassing whine. He shuffles closer, pressing his cheek against Taeyong’s hard and breathes in his scent, all heady and inebriating. It makes his body tingle and it is _thrilling_ , because he _is_ his alpha, no matter how he had tried to deny it. He’d lost to himself, he knows for a fact that he loves Taeyong. _I love him, that’s all there is to it_ , he admits.

  “You know that,” Taeyong says. “Don’t you?”

  Yuta nods, bottom lip trembling, because he deserves to know.

  It feels so good to let himself go Yuta wants to cry. He digs his nails into Taeyong’s back, biting his shoulder to contain his muffled gasps. “Yuta,” Taeyong calls him, the sound reverberating through his chest, “Yuta.” He balls his hands into fists to stop clawing at Taeyong.

  “And I’ve loved you all this time,” he says out loud, swallowing his tears. “I always have, haven’t I?” He asks, mostly for himself, half in relief, half in regret. “Why did I have to go and make it so hard for myself? I made it so hard for us.”

  Taeyong brings him closer, kissing his eyelids. “It doesn’t matter,” he tells him, forcing Yuta to look straight at him. “You’re mine and _that’s it_.”

  Yuta hides his face with his hands. “I- I love you too,” he whispers, voice barely audible, the lump in his throat making him stutter. “I’m sorry I never said it, but- I love you too.”

  There is a moment when Taeyong starts, but he sucks in a sharp breath, and it comes out slowly, like a sigh of relief.

  Taeyong reaches over him and flicks on the table lamp, pushing back his bangs from his face like he wants to see him better. Taeyong’s fingers skim over his cheek, down his neck, and then the scar on the junction of his neck and shoulder, watching him fondly.

  Yuta breathes in and out shakily, Taeyong hovering over him and he is so _close_. He smells so good, so familiar. So familiar, it's like he's loved him all his life.

  Yuta turns away, a little to the side, averting his gaze. But Taeyong has a warm hand cupping his face, making him turn back. Taeyong’s fingers are light and gentle on his cheek, his thumb tracing the bow of Yuta’s lips and lingering at the corner. He lets out a small breath, and he smiles lightly. His eyes look like they are filled with honey and it is so sweet Yuta can taste it in his mouth. There’s something about him that makes him glow, and Yuta thinks he knows what it is.

  Pride.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps the best feeling in the world is when you know that someone is proud of your love


	26. Chapter 26

  Yuta is the same size as he is, but there’s something about the curve of his waist and his hips that are the characteristics of an omega. Yuta smells good, Yuta smells like him. He pulls Yuta closer and breathes in deeply at his neck, relishing in the mouthwatering scent of his omega.

  Yuta rolls over to face him, his movements slow and deliberate. He blinks blearily at him, “Hey,” he says. Taeyong kisses the tip of his nose, his heart trembling nervously.

  “Good morning,” he tells him. _Beautiful_. Yuta laughs a throaty laugh when he hears the quaver in Taeyong’s voice, placing a hand on his bicep and trying to stop him from shaking.

  “What are you so excited for?”

  “Do I-” Taeyong falters, “Do I smell like you?”

  Yuta’s eyes crinkle in a smile, “What?” He searches his face incredulously, and laughs again.

  “You do. Of course you do.” Taeyong grins, unable to control himself.

  “Can I kiss you?” Taeyong asks, hopeful.

  Yuta freezes for a second. He doesn’t remember regressing back to that stage where Taeyong had to ask for his permission. Then he relaxes and huffs out a laugh. “Taeyong,” he says, shuffling closer to him. “You’re so stupid.”

  He puts his arms around Taeyong’s neck and draws him closer until their noses are almost touching. “Kiss me,” Yuta tells him, “If you ever ask again, I’m going to assume something’s wrong.”

  Yuta sees Taeyong’s break into a smile before he kisses him with so much force his lips hurt. He doesn’t pull away, though. He waits until Taeyong slows down and becomes gentler with him, and he gives responses by nipping at his lips.

  Yuta mumbles into the kiss, and he doesn’t know why either. He just wants to let Taeyong know he is _here_.

  “Can I ask you something just to be sure?” Yuta bites his lip, hair falling into his eyes.

  “What is it?”

  “Today… What are we today?” Yuta asks.

  Taeyong touches Yuta’s bottom lip with his thumb so he stops worrying at it. “You’re my mate, nobody else’s,” he tells him. Taeyong kisses him again, and he thinks he is getting addicted to the little sound Yuta makes whenever he presses their lips together. “I’m your mate. However you want to put it.”

  “And I love you, if that’s what you want to know. Got it?” He asks, touching the tip of Yuta’s nose fondly. Yuta nods, closing his eyes.

  “In Korea don’t you say things like-” Yuta mumbles, laughing a little, “Today is our first day?”

  “Today isn’t our first day, Yuta,” Taeyong says, feeling sappy. But Yuta laughs, so everything is alright. “It’s not the first day I’ve loved you.”

  But it _is_ the first day he knows for sure that Yuta loves him back.

-

  Nothing’s really changed, though. Yuta still sits a hand’s breadth away from Taeyong on the couch, and he had thought that distance would disappear.

  Somehow, Yuta seems even shier than he used to be. Taeyong would draw him closer and then Yuta will burst out laughing and then push him away, and it made Taeyong very confused.

  “I just-” Yuta sighs, the hint of a laugh in his voice, when Taeyong corners him. “I just don’t know how to face you now that I’ve said that.”

  Taeyong juts out his bottom lip, and Yuta rolls his eyes.

  “I was hoping — you would open up a bit to me,” he says, looking _way_ more disappointed than he is supposed to be and Yuta laughs.

  “Am I not?” Yuta asks, the corners of his eyes crinkling in his grin.

  “Why do you never let me touch you?” Taeyong asks, trapping Yuta against the kitchen counter, arms on both sides of him so he can’t run away.

  “I don’t never let you touch me,” Yuta says, leaning backwards when Taeyong pushes closer. Then he dips his head to stare levelly at Yuta, his forehead resting on his lightly.

  Yuta chuckles. “Tell me again,” he says. “Is _this_ never letting you touch me?” His breaths hit Taeyong’s cheek, warm and soft, and Taeyong has the decency to grin sheepishly.

  “Not enough,” Taeyong says, pressing his lips on the tip of Yuta’s nose. “You smell so nice and- I want it all over me.” He nuzzles into Yuta’s neck like a puppy, and Yuta almost loses his footing.

  “Because it’s never enough.”

  Yuta returns his hug gently, his touches light and tentatively shy. “You saying that to make me guilty?” Yuta asks deliberately, and Taeyong chuckles.

-

  The first time Yuta kisses Taeyong on his own accord, his reason is stupid.

  Taeyong’s got a questionable injury in the form of a sprained wrist after Yuta challenges him to do a handstand in the middle of the living room. Yuta didn’t know Taeyong would be dumb enough to listen to him.

  “Ow, ow,” Taeyong complains loudly, waiting for Yuta to take pity on him. Yuta gives him a look, but he _was_ the one who had egged him on to doing that handstand, so he sits down beside him.

  “You’re exaggerating,” Yuta states the obvious. Taeyong whines incoherently, and Yuta simply ignores him.

  When he realizes that Yuta isn’t going to pay him any attention this way, Taeyong stops his childish act,

  “I know a way to make it better, but can you help me?”

  “...What is it?”

  “You know, since you’re my omega and all that jazz, I’ll feel better if you kiss me.” Yuta gives him a withering look, and Taeyong realizes how obvious that sounded. _Crap._ He cringes inwardly at himself, but he doesn’t show it. “I’m serious! I- ”

  Yuta presses his lips onto Taeyong’s, cutting off his sentence. He kisses him a few more times for good measure, never really pulling away. “Well?” He asks, ignoring his trembling heart. He is shaking but he doesn’t want Taeyong to know how nervous he gets when he thinks of kissing him. Only after a few moments does Yuta realize, _how did I have the guts to do this?_

  Taeyong gapes at him, his mouth open slightly. It makes him conscious of what he just did and he blushes furiously. Taeyong opens and closes his mouth a few times like a blubbering fish, then he recovers and stammers, “I think- I think it’s going to hurt every five minutes.”

  This time he is slightly more conscious about himself, leaning in close until their noses are an inch apart, and he can see that Taeyong is surprised. _Maybe he never expected this from me, since I never seemed like I will do this. Maybe he’d given up waiting for it because I’m taking too long_. He purses his lips, eyelids fluttering nervously.

  Yuta tilts his head a little to the right, and closes the distance. Taeyong holds his hands at his sides, hovering like he doesn’t know what to do.

  Taeyong has kissed him a lot of times. He is bold but he kisses softly, pushing forward once in a while but keeping his kisses light the other times. Yuta had not known this, but he knows now. _It is so hard to kiss someone who doesn't kiss you back._ Taeyong is shocked and frozen, unable to move. Yuta kisses him like how Taeyong would kiss him, and he tries to remember it exactly.

  Taeyong is warm and gentle, but he is a strong current underneath the guise of a calm surface, and he always leaves Yuta gasping for breath. Yuta doesn’t know how to do it. But he can learn. All he wants right now is for Taeyong to feel good, and he doesn’t know if that is what Taeyong thinks every time when he kisses him. _Maybe that is why his kisses are so…_ Maybe that is why he kisses Yuta like he will dissipate into thin air the moment he stops.

  Yuta puts a little more effort into it, leaning forwards and nudging Taeyong slowly. He whimpers to get Taeyong’s attention, asking him _Are you not going to do anything?_

  The moment Taeyong recovers and kisses him back, Yuta’s eyes fly wide open. It feels so raw, Taeyong’s lips moving against his and he is caught entirely off guard, but _something-_ something seems so out of place.

  He misses his touch.

  When Yuta does pull back he purses his lips, closing his eyes. “Next time put your hands somewhere more useful,” he tells Taeyong in a small voice, turning back to the computer.

-

  Yuta’s learned how to get everything he wants by just curling up in Taeyong’s lap. Of course, he doesn’t really abuse this knowledge.

  One day he comes home from his internship and Taeyong is gaming with Jaehyun online. Taeyong mutters a greeting, absorbed in his game.

  Yuta puts down his things and walks over to him, clicking furiously with his mouse. Yuta watches the word ‘Victory’ explode on his screen and he isn’t going to admit that it caught him off guard and scared him.

  Taeyong turns to him and pulls off his headphones. “You’re back,” he says.

  “Yeah,” Yuta says, then adds quietly, “Obviously.”

  Taeyong winds an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. He nudges him in between his legs, resting his head on his stomach. “You’re a baby,” Yuta says, ruffling his hair. “You’re such a baby.”

  Taeyong pulls him down on his lap, and Yuta sits down heavily, swinging his legs over Taeyong’s. The screen shows a slowly pulsing countdown, and Yuta knows Taeyong is waiting for the next round. He hears Jaehyun’s voice from Taeyong’s headphones. “Hi,” he says tiredly, leaning on Taeyong’s shoulder.

  “Yeah it’s him,” Taeyong says, then unplugs his headphones from his computer. The room immediately fills with sounds like clanging metal.

  “Yuta hyung!” Jaehyun’s voice comes out tinny.

  “Yeah,” Yuta yawns. “It’s me.”

  Taeyong wraps an arm around him, tucking his head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. His clicks on his mouse and selects his character, his fingers curling into Yuta’s waist. “How was today?” Taeyong asks, kissing his cheek lightly.

  “Look at me now,” Yuta says, curled up in his lap. He slumps and closes his eyes tiredly.  “Look at me and tell me how it was.”

  “Let’s sleep earlier tonight then,” Taeyong says. “Kiss me a bit.”

  “I don’t think you remember that I’m listening,” Jaehyun says suddenly. “Ew.”

-

  This is the first time Taeyong’s played a game without its sound on.

  “Wow, you did really bad,” Jaehyun laughs, and Taeyong sighs.

  “I’m not playing anymore tonight.”

  “Why?” Jaehyun asks, clicking furiously on the other side.

  “Shh,” Taeyong shushes him, heaving Yuta up. “Keep your voice down.”

  “Huh?” Jaehyun whisper-shouts, confused.

  “He’s right here asleep,” Taeyong says, cradling Yuta in the crook of his arm. “I need to take him to bed.”

  “Oh,” Jaehyun says, “Okay, bye then.”

  “Yeah, maybe tomorrow.” Taeyong switches off his computer after Jaehyun cuts their connection.

  Yuta mouth is parted slightly, his breathing deep and slow. Taeyong presses a kiss to his forehead, hugging him closer. He didn’t know he could find someone so cute while they are simply sleeping, but that is what he says every time.

  Taeyong helps him change out of his attire, then tucks him into bed. When he finishes showering he crawls in with Yuta, throwing an arm over his waist. _He must be tired out of his mind_ , Taeyong thinks, touching Yuta’s eyebrows and tracing them lightly. _Pretty thing._

  Yuta stirs a little when Taeyong pulls him closer, and Taeyong makes a small shushing sound. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Just me, baby.”

-

  Early in the morning Yuta wakes up and it is only seven thirty. He opens his eyes, eyelids still heavy with sleep, and he sees Taeyong asleep beside him. Yuta stretches and throws his arms around Taeyong’s neck, snuggling closer.

  He buries his face in Taeyong’s neck, and Taeyong smells like sleep, warm and heavy. It is so rare for him to see Taeyong asleep like this. Taeyong sleeps after he does and he is always the one who wakes up with somebody staring at him already.

  But today Taeyong is sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling in such a calm manner Yuta can’t help but nudge him happily. He is his mate. Yuta lets that sink in. _My alpha._

  Yuta slips his legs in between Taeyong’s, leeching up his warmth. Yuta kisses his chin, dragging his lips along Taeyong’s defined jawline lazily, then stopping when he can rest his head on Taeyong’s shoulder. _My alpha._

  The room is warm and there is soft sunlight filtering through the gray curtains, so Yuta gets up and pushes them open. The light pours into the room and he slithers back under the blanket and into Taeyong’s arms, only to spring up again.

   _I should make him breakfast_ , he thinks, even though he can’t cook to save his life. _It won’t be that hard to just make scrambled eggs, will it?_

  It is getting a bit chilly, so he slips on Taeyong’s hoodie thrown over the back of the chair in the desk. He pulls the hood up just for the sake of it — just to feel that Taeyong is all around him, and he heads to the kitchen. He takes out two eggs from the refrigerator and sets them on the counter, and then he stares. _Am I supposed to beat them or not?_ He thinks, and suddenly it seems like what he had thought is true and he’ll end up making something terrible. Or maybe worse — setting the kitchen on fire.

  Yuta searches online ‘Do I need to beat eggs for scrambled eggs’ and is met with a very vague answer. _What do you mean my preference? I know nothing._ In the end he decides to, and he takes out a bowl from the cupboard to-

  “What are you up to?” Taeyong asks, his morning voice raspy. “Hmm?”

  Yuta grins and Taeyong walks up to him, winding his arms around his waist. Taeyong hugs him from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. He kisses him behind his ear, nipping at the shell. Yuta ducks away from him but Taeyong keeps him in place.

  “Good morning to you too,” Yuta says, cracking the eggs into the bowl.

  “My baby trying to be domestic,” Taeyong whispers appreciatively, fingers curling into Yuta’s waist. “Lovely.” He hugs him tighter, lining up his body to Yuta’s back.

  Yuta picks up his chopsticks and beats the two eggs, destroying the yolks first just for the sake of it, and Taeyong laughs. “Baby baby baby,” he mutters, lips moving on the back of Yuta’s neck.

  “You know what would be helpful, Taeyong?” Yuta asks, and Taeyong hums in reply. “If you taught me what I actually have to do.”

  Taeyong laughs and pinches him. “I thought you really learnt to cook,” Taeyong says. “You could have set the kitchen on fire like this, you know.” Yuta scrunches up his nose, pouting lightly because Taeyong can’t see it anyways.

  Taeyong keeps an arm around him and turns on the stove. “But I’m pretty sure you have common sense,” he says. “Just pour it in.”

  Yuta does as he says and dumps everything into the pan, and Taeyong laughs when he looks back at him for approval. Taeyong wraps his hand around Yuta’s, resting his head on his shoulder while guiding his movements with the turner.

  Taeyong’s hand is splayed across Yuta’s stomach, his breaths stir his hair, and Yuta’s heart is a warm, sticky mess.

-

  Yuta stretches with his arms above his head, shirt lifting to show a little bit of his stomach. Taeyong catches him and slips his hands under his shirt, and Yuta shies back in reflex.

  “Excuse me, Mr Lee,” Yuta says, “What do you think you are doing?”

  Taeyong’s hands slip into the fabric and roam his back, his palms warm. “You know,” Taeyong says, “That’s how they feel people up in those nightclub scenes.”

  Yuta laughs at that. “Where did you get _that_ idea?” He asks. “No, it’s not like that. You of all people should know, you must be a flirt.”

  Suddenly Taeyong stops, thoughtful as if he is recalling his memories.

  “I have never been to a club,” he says finally, “Only house parties.”

  “That can’t be, Taeyong.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Let’s go this Friday night,” Yuta suggests. He pretends to love clubbing even though he really doesn’t enjoy it that much. Just for the sake of making Taeyong go once. “You need to experience _life!_ ”

  Taeyong scoffs. “Funny how you — who has never been on a real date except with me — is telling me I need to experience life.”

  Yuta frowns at him, and Taeyong pinches the bridge of his nose teasingly. "I love you," he says suddenly, out of the blue. "You know that, right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pretty uneventful chapter - But the next one will be up soon so...  
> Look forward to that :D


	27. Chapter 27

  Nevertheless, he agrees.

  Taeyong lets Yuta put eyeliner on him for the sake of it, and he demands that he has the right to doll Yuta up like he is doing to him. Yuta whines but Taeyong doesn’t let him off this time, catching him and pushing him into the chair he had been sitting on.

  He fumbles in his drawers for something that Ten had given to him as a joke on his birthday. Ten had teased him that he would like it, but perhaps he is right.

  Taeyong taps the table and Yuta keeps his hands behind his back. “No,” he whines.

  “You put your eyeliner on me,” Taeyong reminds him. “Now give me those hands.”

  In the end Yuta gives in, not because Taeyong tells him to, but because he actually wants to try it himself. And it is funny how Taeyong becomes even more focused than when he is gaming. His eyes are centimetres away from his fingers as he holds the tiny black-coated brush that looks terribly out of place in his hand, and Yuta can’t stop himself from laughing.

  “Stop moving,” Taeyong says, “I can’t put this on properly.”

  Taeyong has no skill with nail polish whatsoever, but he is very attentive. So attentive that he is much more absorbed in his task than paying attention to Yuta stepping on his feet. He inspects them when he is done and holds up Yuta’s hand for him to see.

  “Look,” he says, his eyes alight with a wonder that makes him resemble a child. “It’s amazing.”

  Yuta can’t help but laugh. “Aren’t you taking this too seriously?”

  “Come on,” Taeyong says, laughing at himself too. “Let’s be a little more ceremonious. It’s my clubbing virginity.”

  He moves on to Yuta’s other hand, and Yuta watches him closely. How he grips his fingers and holds him in place gently, the way he _has_ to make everything about it perfect. Yuta looks up, smiling as he sees Taeyong frown in his concentration.

  Yuta touches the scar at the corner of his eye, snapping Taeyong out of his trance. He chuckles lightly, keeping his finger there, his heart filled with an unfathomable sentiment that makes him oddly upset.

   _His scar._

-

  Yuta leads Taeyong inside the musky place, the air pounding in the beat of the bass. “Wow,” he hears Taeyong say beside him. “I’m going deaf.”

  Yuta laughs, but he knows Taeyong can’t really hear it. He leans in and speaks next to his ear. “It’ll get better.”

  “You mean I’ll get deafer,” Taeyong whispers back.

  Yuta ropes him onto the dance floor after two drinks, and he pulls Taeyong’s arms around himself. “I’m sorry it wasn’t so enjoyable here last time,” he says, leaning in close. His face is a little flushed from the alcohol and from the people all around them.

  “What- Oh,” Taeyong says dumbly, holding onto Yuta. He looks into his eyes, and Yuta purses his lips apologetically.

  “But you won’t find me again like that,” he says quietly, and Taeyong almost misses it. He looks shy to say it, but there is his little determination that Taeyong cannot help but smile at.

  “It’s okay,” he says. “You here with me now.” Maybe it would be good to cleanse this place of bad memories.

  In spite of everything, Taeyong finds it hard to concentrate on the scene. There are too many people, and there are too many eyes on Yuta.

  “I’ll never have this kind of fun, Yuta,” he tells him after a while. Yuta is unbothered, grinning wide and fitting well into the place.

  “Why?” He asks, cocking his head a little. _The eyeliner makes his normally round eyes longer_ , Taeyong observes, _Sexier._ But he doesn’t want other people to see it.

  “I am here, but I can only see you,” he says, “I can only worry if you’re going to dart away somewhere among the crowd and I’ll lose you.”

  Yuta keeps winding through the throng of people, and Taeyong only knows how to follow him frantically. “Don’t be so _worried_ ,” Yuta laughs, putting two fingers in between his brows and smoothing them out. “If you don’t put on this face,” he whispers playfully, a hand cupped around his mouth. “Who knows? You might even be able to pick up some chicks.”

  Taeyong pinches him, laughing with his tongue in his cheek. “Let’s get you in that mood,” Yuta continues, trying to back away from Taeyong’s hand but Taeyong doesn’t let him go. “I’m going to get us another drink.”

  “You stay here,” Taeyong says, still pinching him. “I’ll go.”

  “No, _you_ stay here,” Yuta says, “I can’t trust you to get drinks.” Taeyong releases him and he rubs his cheek. “Ow!” He complains, “That hurt.”

  Taeyong doesn’t say anything and pats him on his butt, ushering him to go.

-

  Very stupidly, Yuta is right and somebody comes up and hits on him. Taeyong is experienced enough to recognize it, but he isn’t experienced enough to know how to outright reject them.

  “Hey handsome,” the young omega girl says, two of her friends giggling behind her. She must be the bolder one of the group. Taeyong isn’t going to admit it in case Yuta laughs at him, but he panics.

  “U-Uh,” he answers dumbly. “Um- Hello.”

  “Want to get me a drink?” She asks, lipstick a bit too red for such a little girl. Which reminds him of why he’s never at clubs. He likes people clean and natural, and he thinks everybody is the prettiest without makeup. But _Yuta-_ He is so beautiful in any way.

  Taeyong shuffles awkwardly, shifting his weight on his feet. He looks around but he doesn’t see his mate. _Yuta please come back or I’m going to do something embarrassing._

  The girls laugh at his nervous expression, and Yuta doesn’t make it in time. “You’re not my type,” Taeyong blurts out, tripping over his own words. He regrets it immediately seeing the shocked look on the girl’s face. He hadn’t wanted it to sound so mean. But at least, he didn’t say _I see you as a child._

  Thank the heavens she recovers quickly. “Then which one is yours?” She asks challengingly, raising her eyebrow and looking at her friends.

  “O-Oh he’s here,” Taeyong almost yells in his relief, grabbing Yuta by the elbow and dragging him near. The girls seem to recognize something when Yuta looks at the four of them in confusion.

  “Sorry,” she grins, and Taeyong almost crumbles in relief that she is an easy-going one. “Didn’t know you were with someone.”

-

  “Thank fuck you’re here- I’m afraid of people.” Taeyong hides behind Yuta, using him as something like a shield. “I just straight out told her she isn’t my type- Oh my goodness- What did I just say- I was so mean-”

  Yuta laughs when he hears his recount. “Goodness,” he says between his bouts of laughter. “Poor girl- She _had_ to meet you out of all people.”

  “Hey!” Taeyong says suddenly as if he’s realized something, “Aren’t you supposed to tell me it’s right to reject her?”

  “You already did,” Yuta says, “Too late.”

  “No that’s not the point!” Taeyong says incredulously as Yuta hands him his cocktail. “You should be happy that I rejected her!”

  “Hmm,” Yuta pretends to be thoughtful. “I think she’s really pretty. Are you sure you aren’t up for that? I mean, I would-”

  Taeyong tries to cover his mouth but Yuta ducks away. “Maybe take her out on a date-” Yuta continues, dodging his hand. “Perhaps-”

  When Taeyong finally catches him he locks an arm around his neck threateningly, and Yuta giggles.

  Taeyong grimaces. “Oh my god- Shut up, Yuta,” Taeyong says, covering his face with a hand in embarrassment. “You know I would never think-”

  “Yeah,” Yuta laughs, “I know. That’s why.” He kisses Taeyong on his jaw, and Taeyong stands there, frozen.

-

  He doesn’t know how it escalated like this. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or just the party. But maybe it is all because of Yuta. He is so into it today, Taeyong feels a little out of breath.

  Taeyong pins him to the wall by his waist, so close Yuta trembles. The loud music thuds in his chest and Taeyong kisses him, raw and hard. His head hurts against the wall from how forcefully Taeyong pushes, and he almost loses his breath. Taeyong doesn’t stop, and it is as if he is trying to eat him up.

  Yuta gasps, and Taeyong lets him catch his breath for a few seconds and dives back in. Yuta’s hands find Taeyong’s face on their own, his fingers touching his cheeks lightly. It’s darker here in the far end, and Yuta stretches out his neck when Taeyong drags his lips down the white column.

  Taeyong sucks on the soft skin, and Yuta lets out a small cry of pain. Taeyong whispers an apology, and sucks even harder. It’s not that Yuta doesn’t like it.

  When they break apart Taeyong’s hair is mussed up because of Yuta, and his eyes sparkle with a happy glint.

  “That was to repay for what I have not done in the past,” Taeyong says, his gaze intent. “But this- ” He pulls Yuta close to him gently, winding his arms around his waist. Taeyong plants a soft kiss on his cheek, then on his cheekbone, then the tip of his nose, and then his forehead. “This is what I want you to feel now.”

  Taeyong sighs, pressing him against the wall, nosing at his cheek like a cat. “I hate this place,” Taeyong whispers, “I don’t want anybody touching you.”

  Yuta recovers and chuckles, pulling him closer even though that is impossible. “ _You’re_ the one who got hit on,” Yuta reminds him, laughing.

  “But you don’t belong here. This place is dirty,” he says, and Yuta doesn’t answer him, only running his hands through his hair and messing it up.

  "I really am no fun at clubs, right?” Taeyong asks.

-

  Yuta answers him when they are free of the heavy and dark air inside, waiting at the bus stop because they don’t trust themselves to walk back home.

  Yuta cocks his head. “Despite the way you look… maybe you’re not very good at this. I think it might be better to stay at home and cuddle.” Taeyong laughs, reaching for his hand.

  “It is, isn’t it,” he says. The bus is late. “But don’t you look pretty tonight.”

  “You’ve said that already,” Yuta says, the eyeliner making his eyes longer and more cat-like. Taeyong swears he can imagine Yuta purring.

  “Am I not allowed to admire you more than once?” Taeyong leans in closer, and Yuta flinches slightly, but Taeyong doesn’t fail to notice. “You do still get nervous,” he points out.

  “Who does?” Yuta asks, unable to back down from a challenge.

  Taeyong’s eyes rake down to his lips, and back up. “I think,” he says slowly and deliberately, “You.” Yuta is so cute. One moment he can be crazily seductive, the next he might be shying away from the smallest gestures.

  Yuta meets Taeyong’s eyes, feeling his breath on his cheek. “Am I,” he says, but he is, and it is obvious. Taeyong stares him down and finally he gives up pretending, resting his hands softly on Taeyong’s shoulders and looking to the side. “Eii,” he makes an embarrassed sound, “Okay, I get it.”

  “Listen, Yuta,” Taeyong whispers like he is telling a secret. He glances behind himself and when he turns back he leans even closer. “Listen.”

  Yuta widens his eyes and waits for him to continue. _He is so close_ , Yuta thinks, and even though they’ve resolved the problem with their undefined relationship it is new and thrilling, and he almost shudders with flustered excitement. “At this distance,” Taeyong goes on, still keeping his voice low, and Yuta leans in to hear him. Taeyong smirks when he does, self-satisfied by having his way. He cups a hand around his mouth. “At this distance, isn’t it wrong for us to do anything except kiss?”

 “Lee Taeyong, you-” Yuta whispers in disbelief at his smug smile. He grits his teeth, and _at least_ he can’t lose entirely. Yuta gathers his courage and kisses him, drawing back swiftly to see Taeyong grinning.

  “You think I’m going to let you off so easily,” Taeyong says, “Now that I’ve had a taste of you.” Yuta opens his mouth to complain at his terribly proud expression. _What’s wrong with that shit-eating grin and that speech?_ He thinks, half nervous, half annoyed. Not even the first syllable makes it out of his mouth when Taeyong kisses him and licks his lips. He makes an abashed sound at Taeyong’s action, and he feels all the muscles in his body grow taut.

  A fluttering sensation grows in his stomach and Taeyong doesn’t stop, making an embarrassing sound slip out of his mouth without warning. Yuta shudders at his own voice. He sounds kittenish, inviting, even.

  “ _Damn_ ,” Taeyong says breathlessly when he pulls back, his eyes bright. “ _Damn it_. I love you so much.”

-

  They’re getting nothing done right at this point. Not even falling asleep.

  Yuta pushes his hips back into Taeyong’s erection and Taeyong makes an embarrassing sound of surprise. The pretty thing grinds into his lap, making Taeyong’s arm around his waist tighten involuntarily.

 He laughs, and Taeyong can feel it through his back. Taeyong slaps Yuta’s butt in retaliation, but his voice is soft and restrained. “Don’t do that,” he tells him, “Stop it, or else we won’t be sleeping tonight.”

  Yuta rolls over to face him and catches Taeyong’s retreating hand. “Hey hey hey hey, put it back,” he whispers, guiding him back between his thighs. Yuta closes his legs tight around Taeyong’s hand as if he is afraid he’s going to pull it away.

  “Who says I wanted to sleep tonight.”

  Taeyong’s blood rushes towards his abdomen. The insides of Yuta’s thighs are soft and he can feel his self-control slipping away.

  “What if I don’t want to sleep tonight?”

  Taeyong blushes at that and Yuta laughs. “Do you remember that time when I wore that open side tank top that you hate and you scolded me for wearing so little when it’s cold?”

  “...And?”

  “And you gave me your jacket,” Yuta says glumly, “You have no brain.”

  “Sometimes the way you dress is just too sultry.”

  Yuta groans. He puts his hands around Taeyong’s neck and pretends to choke him. “You _really_ have no brain. That’s the point!”

  “You prude. I’m giving you a chance to make up for it.”

-

  This is the first time. The first time that Yuta has really in the right state of mind, knowingly seduced him. There is so much about his abashed determination now that can make Taeyong go on and on about it.

  Right now Yuta is like a human fragrance, sitting on Taeyong and straddling his waist. He smells so good, his sweet scent diffusing into the air and Taeyong knows what he is up to. Pheromones are potent stuff. And this is his mate.

  He is using his scent to arouse his alpha, and it is the best way to do it. If you use it right, it is something very primal that directly says, in essence, _I want sex_ , and Taeyong can’t help but grip his thighs.

  “Yuta,” Taeyong grits out between his teeth. “Don’t do this.”

  “Yuta.”

  Yuta purses his lips, his brows furrowed. “But- But I-”

  “ _Yuta._ ” Taeyong cups his face in his hands, his lips forced into a pout in between them. “You shouldn’t do this.”

  “Okay?” Taeyong asks when Yuta looks upset. “Honey?”

  “Taeyong,” Yuta says, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I didn’t do this for you to hesitate.”

  The air is saturated with his pheromones, and Taeyong wants to tell him that he _cannot_ control himself. “I know you are worried,” Yuta whispers. “But I promise you I will not do something that I do not want.”

  Yuta purses his lips. “So… are you going to leave me hanging like this?”

  “When- When I’m like this for you… Are you going to leave me hanging, then?”

-

  Yuta crawls over him and lies down on his chest slowly. Taeyong wonders how he can be so adorable and tempting at the same time. Yuta fixes his eyes on him and puckers his lips teasingly.

  There’s nothing else like the contact of skin on skin that makes an alpha’s mind turn into mush. “You’re spoiling it,” Yuta says, dragging out the syllables, “When you don’t watch.” It’s one of the few times when Yuta smiles without showing his teeth, and his eyes are half-lidded, as if he knows exactly how Taeyong can be enticed. Taeyong hates how weak it makes him.

  "Yuta," he groans, and Yuta pouts, so he shuts up.

  He hums lazily, “So now you have to do it yourself.” Yuta guides Taeyong’s hand to the small of his back and lets go. It’s the first time Yuta’s allowed anything like this between them aside from his heats, and he can’t help but feel nervous. What if Yuta doesn’t like he what he does?

  “Come on,” Yuta whispers, “You’re no fun.” He gyrates his hips on Taeyong’s erection, making him suck in a breath.

  “Just do it, Taeyong,” Yuta eggs him on, “Don’t act like you’ve never done this.” So Taeyong pushes a finger into Yuta, earning a stifled groan. “Finally,” Yuta tries to say, but it comes out breathy as Taeyong hooks his finger.

  “You okay?” Taeyong asks, his hair falling into his eyes.

  "You're nervous," Yuta observes, "And it's kind of cute."

  Taeyong blushes, and lets himself be reminded of why he can never stand up to his omega. He knows exactly what he is weak for.

  “Let me tell you a secret,” Yuta whispers, almost purring. Yuta teases him like he had done to him when they were waiting for their bus, fingers in his hair. “I’m nervous too.” His voice trembles because of the stimulus. “But I’m yours.”

  Taeyong thinks of how shy Yuta was to say that out loud a while ago, and he feels so self-satisfied he has to lean in and kiss him. “You’re mine,” he tells Yuta, partly for himself to marvel at. "You're mine."

  Yuta _giggles_ , and it is outrageous. “Yes, yours,” he says, when Taeyong fixes his eyes on him with the most possessive look he has ever seen. “I’m all yours.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the last were originally one chapter, but I got a bit carried away and I kept adding things into it ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

  Taeyong twists the digits inside him and Yuta tries to relax. “You better think that way,” Taeyong tells Yuta, while he lies on his chest.

  He has three fingers in Yuta and he spreads them out, making Yuta moan. Yuta covers his mouth with a hand, eyes wide with embarrassment. It’s something that he has always done, every time. And Taeyong doesn’t really want it this way.

  “Don’t hold back,” he tells Yuta. “It’s only me.”

  Yuta shakes his head, cheeks flushed, and Taeyong sighs. “Silly,” he says. “It’s only me.”

  Finally Yuta winds his arms around his neck, breath hitching in his throat while Taeyong preps him. “I- I’ll try, okay?” Yuta promises, his voice strained.

  It’s not as much slick as he has in his heats, but it will do.

  Taeyong touches him like he knows Yuta’s body like the back of his hand. Yuta doesn’t know if it’s because he puts his hands on all the right places, or if it’s just because his fingers send rushes of adrenaline through him wherever they are.

  Yuta swallows his gasps and spreads his thighs, doing his best in making himself relaxed. Taeyong pulls his pants off him entirely, and the air is too cold on his feverish skin. He whimpers, and Taeyong knows what is wrong.

  “I’m here,” he says, and that seems to make everything better already. It is as if that is the only thing that matters, and Yuta can’t help but hook his legs around his waist and lock him in place, and he won’t let him leave. “Silly,” Taeyong says, the term endearing in its own odd way, especially when he abuses Yuta slowly with his fingers.

  Yuta rolls his hips tentatively, but Taeyong holds himself well. “What do you want?” he asks, the corners of his eyes crinkling in his smile and he doesn’t even bother hide it from Yuta that he wants him to say it out loud.

  Yuta huffs out a breathless laugh.

-

  Taeyong stops in his newfound amazement in Yuta’s grin. _God, he_ _is so beautiful._

  Yuta runs his fingers along his forearm, urging him on. But his words are always scalding, even though his touches are tender and shy. “At this rate I’d think you have never done this to me,” he says, his hair falling into his eyes. He laughs. “Am I that good to look at?”

  Only then does Taeyong remember to speak. “You are,” he says, answering in the affirmative. Taeyong sees the hint of another smile on Yuta’s lips, and he grins himself. “It’s not like you don’t know that already,” he whispers playfully, stealing a kiss on the shell of his ear. “Beautiful.”

  Yuta laughs an awful lot today, and it isn’t that great for Taeyong’s heart nor his concentration. He never remembers to do anything else except watch a bright smile bloom across Yuta’s features, so sweet and genuine that he wants to watch it all his life.

  He reciprocates his happiness dumbly, his heart full and about to burst to flood the room with syrup. _I love you so much_ , Taeyong thinks, pushing Yuta’s hair out of his eyes. His eyes are so bright, alight with all the good things in the world.

  “You’re so-” Taeyong says, equally breathless. “You’re-”

  Yuta cuts him off, leaning forward to kiss him. His lips move against Taeyong’s without much thought, arms around his neck and it seems like he only cares for Taeyong kissing him back right now.

  And Taeyong likes to show him exactly how much he loves him that way.

  He wants to say it again and again. _You’re so beautiful. You know that, don’t you? You must know it, you must be able to see it from the way I’m always nervous. I think that I do a good enough job of showing that I am head over heels for you._

  Taeyong draws his fingers out of Yuta and his omega whines, grinding his butt on Taeyong’s crotch for more. And Taeyong can never deny him anything.

  He thrusts in and pulls out of him, all in an erratic pace, his mind blank and his body demanding _more, more_ and _more_ of Yuta. Taeyong’s hands at his hips will probably leave bruises, and as much as he doesn’t want him to hurt, this moment he can only focus on satisfying Yuta and making him gasp and cry. _He’s so beautiful_ , he thinks, watching Yuta’s chest rise and fall for him. _No wonder… No wonder everyone wants a bit of him._

-

  Yuta’s fingernails dig into Taeyong’s biceps when his knot starts to swell up inside him, and it’s more painful than he had felt it during his heat. “Wait a minute,” he gasps, holding onto Taeyong for dear life. His nails scratch down Taeyong’s back as he bites back a moan. He lets his breath out with short and breathy sounds, and it only makes Taeyong more excited.

  But he keeps it in himself, trying to calm down. “Relax, honey,” Taeyong tells him, his voice soothing and a bit apologetic. He combs back Yuta’s bangs which are drenched in sweat. “Just a bit.”

  Soon Yuta wriggles his hips a little and Taeyong thrusts into him slowly. “Yeah, do that,” Yuta says, out of breath, when the knot presses onto his prostate.

  Taeyong doesn’t give him the pleasure of doing as he would like him to, and chooses to tease his nipples. “Does my baby like this?” Taeyong asks, and Yuta thinks he’s trying to annoy him.

  “No,” he tells him, squirming and shying away from his hand all the while.

  Taeyong raises an eyebrow. “You know,” he says lowly, “It’s not right to lie to your mate. I know your body like the back of my hand.” His raspy voice and deliberate tone sends a shiver through Yuta, and what he says is evidently true, when Taeyong leans down and sucks on his nipples.

  Yuta cries out loud when Taeyong’s teeth graze the sensitive skin. Taeyong’s hand finds his cock and he spills embarrassingly soon into the circle of his fist only moments after he touches him. Yuta arches his back as pleasure pulses through him, and he clenches tight around Taeyong’s knot, feeling fuller than he has ever been. When he comes down from his high Taeyong’s head is still buried in his chest. His body trembles from overstimulation, but Taeyong doesn’t stop until both of Yuta’s nipples look red and abused.

  Then he pulls back and rakes his gaze up and down Yuta, who is lying limply on the bed, looking worn out. He runs his palm slowly from Yuta’s chest to his abdomen. “It’s not right to lie,” Taeyong says in a whisper, like he is telling Yuta a terrible secret. He puts pressure onto Yuta’s abdomen so he can make sure Yuta feels him inside, “Just remember — We’ll have to teach our kids this.”

  Taeyong’s act falls apart when he sees Yuta’s ears flush red. Yuta makes a small, adorable noise that is somewhere in between a whine and soft breathy moan. “Don’t- Don’t talk about kids yet,” he whimpers. “ _T_ _aeyong._ ”

  Taeyong laughs at his embarrassment and then kisses him, still chuckling. He peppers kisses all over his face, and Yuta grabs the opportunity to hold him close. “I love you, I love you,” he says in between. “I really do.”

  “Don’t _stop,_ ” Yuta hisses when Taeyong stares.

  His hand on Yuta’s stomach lingers for a while. Taeyong hesitates for a second. “Are you afraid? If I knot you?” he asks, and Yuta promptly shakes his head.

  “This isn’t the first time, Taeyong,” he says, the rim of his eyes red.

  “You’re not in your heat.” He knows that it’s painful.

  Taeyong bites his bottom lip, looking totally unconvinced. Yuta reaches out with his arms and Taeyong pulls him up. “Okay, I’m going to tell you honestly,” he says, “It hurts. But I can take it. I can hurt a bit for you.”

-

  Yuta arches his back when Taeyong pushes his knot into him, fingernails digging into his forearm. Taeyong bites his lip when he bottoms out, and Yuta can register _that_.

  He wants so much to just make him feel good.

  If he knows that Taeyong enjoys it, it is as if… _everything else don’t matter anymore._

  When Taeyong comes inside of him Yuta has his head thrown back and eyes half lidded, his mouth open silently. The column of his neck, his arms slipping off Taeyong’s shoulders, the slender digits scrabbling for purchase, his entire body buzzing with fatigue and adrenaline. Taeyong swears he has never seen anything this mesmerizing.

-

  He is proved wrong when his knot goes down and he asks Yuta if he wants to take a bath. Yuta doesn’t reply, only sniffs quietly when Taeyong walks around the bed to his side.

  Yuta, spent and eyes defocused but the moment Taeyong leans down and touches his cheek his lips stretches into a grin. He is tired, his face streaked with tears and his hair mussed up, but smiling prettily like Taeyong is all the reasons why he smiled. Like he is smiling _just_ for him, and Taeyong’s chest hurts when his heart expands in it.

  Taeyong kneels next to the bed so they are at eye level, putting an arm around Yuta’s shoulders and pulling him closer to the edge. He reaches for Yuta’s hand with his free one, leaning in close just for the sake of it. “You like what you’re seeing, hmm?” He asks, playfully shortening the distance between them.

  Yuta laughs and tries to shy backwards, but Taeyong’s arm around him keeps him in place. Taeyong kisses him, and he makes a short, adorable sound of surprise.

  Yuta wraps his fingers around Taeyong’s thumb like a baby. He doesn’t put a lot of strength in his grip, but it is enough to knead his heart into a mess. “Taeyong,” he says under his breath, and it’s all he ever needs to hear.

  “You- you inconsiderate- I’m sore all over.” Taeyong laughs as Yuta furrows his brows in the cutest manner.

  “So do you want me to pick you up?”

  “...I hurt, Taeyong” he says, “Everything hurts, but I love you. Oh no, Taeyong, I love you.” Yuta’s voice is soft and his tone exasperated, but his hand covering his face cannot hide the affection coming off him in waves. His scent is sweet, sweeter than it was before. So sweet and lovely it winds him. He’s happy, and it makes a thousand wires in Taeyong’s brain short circuit at the same time. A happy omega smells like love.

  His fingers slide over Yuta’s eyelids, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, like they are the most voluptuous silk.

  “Help me up,” Yuta says, stretching out his arms. Taeyong pulls him up and he stands.

  Yuta trips over his own feet.

  “Are you alright?” Taeyong asks, which does not help.

  “Yes,” he hisses, embarrassed, when Taeyong ushers him into the bathroom. Taeyong seems to be okay with letting it go since he doesn’t pester him anymore, only laughing lightly at his red face. Instead, he wraps his arms around Yuta, burying his face in his shoulder.

  Taeyong makes a muffled noise, and it makes Yuta jump. He looks at their reflection in the mirror, and it feels foreign to see somebody else naked like this. That very object of his attention is clinging onto him like he would vanish into thin air if he didn’t.

  His own body is littered with marks that he thinks will bruise and it is all very… raw, and very satisfying. “Hey, what are you doing?” Yuta asks, patting Taeyong on the arm around his neck.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he says, planting heavy kisses onto his cheek in between his words. Taeyong’s voice is so full of adoration it feels like he will hold Yuta like a baby and rock him if Yuta lets him. He shudders.

  “I think I have to remind you that I feel like you pulled me apart and put me back together again, and you’re leaning your whole weight on me. How is that fair?”

-

  Taeyong makes him bathe with him. He should have seen it coming.

  He also should have seen it coming when Taeyong insists to rinse out his hair for him. He should have known Taeyong won’t let him go easily.

  Now he is trapped by Taeyong’s fingers in his hair, running slowly through it, and it feels so good he cannot move away. Yuta closes his eyes, happy.

  “Taeyong,” Yuta says, tugging at this arm. Taeyong stops playing with his hair, and hums in reply.

  “Yeah? What is it?” He asks, wiping off the droplets rolling down his face.

  Yuta watches his movements with the hint of a smile on his lips. But this time, it is somewhat mysterious, and it makes Taeyong want to press on until he says what he has to.

  “What is it?” He asks again, curious.

  “Taeyong-” Yuta says, swallowing his words yet again, and then he laughs at himself. “Taeyong…”

  “Yes?”

  “Taeyong,” Yuta repeats like a mantra.

  Yuta swallows the lump in his throat and holds onto his arm. “Th-This is when I will tell you to mark me,” He says, his voice small. Taeyong stops, mouth open slightly.

  Then he smiles, his head still registering what Yuta had just said. He smiles a little awkwardly because he is suddenly bashful, and brings Yuta closer with one hand behind his neck. “Come here,” he says gently, and Yuta shuffles closer to him. Taeyong leans forward and kisses him, fingers curling at his nape.

  Yuta slips when Taeyong presses forward eagerly, losing his grip on the edge of the bathtub. The water sloshes out of the tub at their movements but Taeyong doesn’t care at all, only pushing him backwards.

  “Taeyong!” Yuta gasps, voice muffled against his lips. He holds onto Taeyong, arms around his neck threatening to slip. Taeyong helps him sit up properly, and Yuta laughs breathlessly. “What are you so impatient for?” He asks Taeyong, happiness exploding in his chest like fireworks. Taeyong looks like an overexcited puppy, and if he were one, he’d be wagging his tail like crazy. He leans in again, keen and ardent, and Yuta can’t help but smile.

  Taeyong looks good like this, dripping wet and hair slicked back, grinning. He kisses Yuta again briefly and sits back on his heels. “We made a mess,” he observes, eyeing the puddle on the bathroom floor. “Be careful when you get out later.”

  “Okay,” Yuta replies, biting his lip to contain his stupid smile.

  Taeyong winds his arms around his waist, settling down again. He rests his head on Yuta’s chest and nuzzles into him, pressing kisses onto his skin. Taeyong looks up at him, eyes like crescents. “I’m so happy,” he tells Yuta. “I'm so glad you’re here with me.”

  Yuta stares in awe at Taeyong lying on him, and he reaches to touch his face. He is real. Yuta catches his ears in between his fingers and makes a scissoring movement, laughing to himself when it looks like Taeyong is moving his ears on his own. Taeyong kisses him at his collarbones and he thinks he is blushing at the way his fingers curl at his waist.

  “Taeyong,” he whispers, and Taeyong hums in reply. “I- I’m letting you claim me.”

  “I know,” Taeyong says, lips brushing against his skin. In the end he fails to hide his grin and he buries his face in Yuta’s chest. “I’m so _happy_ ,” he says, his voice cracking a little and both of them laugh at it.

  “You can’t take it back, okay?” Taeyong asks, “You promise?” Taeyong holds up one hand, sticking out his pinky. Yuta stifles his laughter and links pinkies with him.

  He presses their thumbs together and Taeyong is satisfied. ”It's sealed now,” he says, “Can’t take it back anymore.” He puts his hand back down but he doesn’t let go of Yuta’s, keeping their fingers linked underwater.

  Yuta puts his other hand around Taeyong, shifting into a more comfortable position. Their legs are tangled and the bathtub is not the best place to cuddle, but Yuta thinks he’ll have this anytime. “I’m not taking it back,” he tells Taeyong. “You won’t let me.”

  “You’re right,” he says in reply. “I won’t let you.”

-

  And Yuta has associated Taeyong’s presence with warm, heavy towels around his body right out of a hot bath, eyelids half-closed, body soft and content.

  Yuta leans his head on Taeyong’s shoulder, drowning in his scent. He has associated him with the warm current that surges from his chest tirelessly.

-

  They get ready for bed in a content silence, and Taeyong keeps touching Yuta as if there will be severe consequences if he doesn’t.

  It is very awful and magical, seeing Taeyong cry in front of him for the first time. Yuta slips his fingers into his hair, pushing away the hand he is using to hide his face. “Taeyong,” he whispers, not knowing how to make it better. “Why are you upset?”

  Taeyong glances at him, tears rolling down his cheeks silently. “I’m not upset,” he tells him. He draws Yuta closer, hooking his legs under the blanket between his own. Yuta slips his arms around his torso slowly.

  “I just feel bad for you,” Taeyong whispers quietly.

  “W-What?” Yuta asks, unable to understand why Taeyong is shedding tears for this.

  “You didn't like me at first,” he says as if that explains everything.

  “I could see that you liked people who are more outgoing, more cheery. People like… Jaehyun. And I had been withholding you from these people.”

  “I know that you didn’t want to be with me and I’m glad- I’m so glad you are willing to put up with me. I hope… you are satisfied. And I am sorry.”

  Yuta cannot speak, frozen. In his memory it has always been Taeyong who has done all of the ‘putting up with’, and Yuta had already forgotten why they are here in the first place. It’s been too long since he didn’t love Taeyong for him to remember what it is like not loving him.

  “When you asked me- What you said just now… It made me remember that I never had the permission. And now I am a little overwhelmed and I don’t know whether to be happy or guilty. I’m sorry I never asked before claiming you. I’m sorry it had to take you so much effort to like me. I was an asshole, wasn’t I?”

  Yuta closes his eyes. He didn’t know it is this unbearable to see somebody that you love cry. He shakes his head, pursing his lips.

  “It doesn’t matter, Taeyong,” Yuta says, mimicking the way he has heard Taeyong comfort him a million times over. “Everything is alright, and that’s the end of it.”

  “I… I love you now, and nothing else matters.”

  “It does matter, and I’m still sorry.” Taeyong tries to blink his tears away, but they slide down his cheeks easily without any resistance. “But-“ Taeyong says it like he has never heard it from him. “But you- You love me?”

  Yuta reaches to wipe his tears with his fingers. _Now is the time to be strong for him._ “I do,” he says firmly, leaving no room for discussion. “I love you.”

  Taeyong lets out a sound that is somewhere between pained and relieved, and it doesn’t help with his tears.

  “You shouldn’t,” Taeyong cries, “l don’t deserve that from you. The most I should have is reluctant forgiveness because you know this is something I don’t have the power to take back.”

  “...Do you regret it, Taeyong?” Yuta asks quietly.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, looking Yuta in the eye as if waiting for his judgement. “But- I don’t think I do. I want you _so bad._ ”

  Taeyong doesn’t know that Yuta’s got the answer he had wanted, and he is apprehensive, scared that he will be displeased at his honesty.

  “I _know_ it is a bad thing, but… Because-” Taeyong says, trying frantically to explain. “Because I really- When you looked at me for the first time, I already-” He shakes his head, “Couldn’t let anybody else have you…” He trails off, his voice growing smaller and smaller.

  “I’m really sorry,” he whispers, eyes brimming with tears.

  “Quit telling me that,” Yuta says determinedly. “I don’t want you to be sorry anymore.”

  ”I always think- What if I didn’t do it?” Taeyong’s words catches in his throat. “Would you be here now? If I didn’t make that decision on my own?”

  There is no answer for it and there will not be an answer ever, Taeyong understands that. Yuta closes his eyes briefly. He doesn’t want to think about it, and it will only hurt his head if he does. But most importantly, there is no need to think about it anymore.

  He is right here, and Taeyong shouldn’t be thinking about that.

  “Listen, Taeyong,” Yuta says, putting his hands on Taeyong’s face so he looks at him properly. “Don’t tell me that ever again. I’ve forgiven you and I-I love you, so don’t tell me that anymore.”

  Taeyong expression doesn’t change, and Taeyong still looks like he is upset for him.

  “If you…” Yuta swallows his own tears. “If you don’t kiss me right now, then I’m going to be mad.”

  He looks surprised, and Yuta stares into his eyes seriously.

  “I’m going to be mad,” he repeats softly, urging Taeyong on.

  So Taeyong kisses Yuta, always with his heart full and breath short, and Yuta kisses him back, all strong and perfect and everything Taeyong wants him to be.

  Taeyong knows he is lucky, he knows they are lucky. It doesn’t end this way for most people. But Yuta doesn’t want him to say it, so he will keep it unsaid. Yuta isn’t a blundering person like he seems to be, and there are a lot of things that he keeps to himself too. He thinks a lot, and Taeyong knows he has already turned this question over and over again in his head. If Yuta cannot reach a conclusion except to leave it alone, then he will do it the way he wants it to be.

  “It’s no use to think that way,” Yuta whispers, as if he can see through him, read him like an open book. “You’ve done it. It’s done. It’s fine now. I’m still here. I don’t hate you. You were bad for doing that but-” He shakes his head slightly. “But thank God... I love you.”

  He buries his head in the crook of his neck and shoulder, letting Taeyong hold him. “I am scared too, sometimes, when I think about it,” Yuta admits, “But then I remember that everyone else has their own problems with love, and I think… I think that’s okay.”

  Taeyong hiccups, tears soaking through Yuta’s shirt. “I’m sorry,” he says, locking him in his embrace like he wants to crush his bones. “Let me say this some more- A little bit, please- I can’t get over it.”

  Yuta ruffles his hair at the back of his head, and he feels like a baby for needing somebody so much. “Yuta,” he cries, “I love you, I really, really do. I think- I think… I’m going to treat you like a princess my whole life.”

  It is a bit funny how Taeyong says that while he is crying so hard, and Yuta huffs out a short laugh in amusement. “But I don’t want to be a princess,” Yuta says deliberately, just to see what Taeyong’s reaction will be.

  Taeyong wipes his eyes roughly with the back of his hand and looks at him with such a sad expression through his tears that Yuta can’t help but break into a smile at. “Really?” Taeyong’s voice cracks a little, and Yuta feels bad for finding it him so adorable like this, distraught over some very little thing.

  “Yeah,” Yuta says, “I’m just me. Standard Homo sapien.”

  For a while, Taeyong doesn't know how to answer him because his head hurts from crying and his brain isn’t working very well at the moment. He breaks back into his sobs, reaching for Yuta and leaning to bury his face in his stomach. “Why do you have to-” He bawls between his sobs. “Why do you always say things that are too smart for me?”

  Yuta laughs at his tone, hauling Taeyong up closer and kissing the crown of his head. Taeyong laughs in between his sobs, and it makes Yuta more amused and exasperated seeing him like this. “Because I don’t want you to beat yourself up,” Yuta answers, and when Taeyong grimaces, he laughs at him again, teasing. “I want to be the only person who can beat you up.”


	29. Chapter 29

  It doesn’t help when Yuta realizes his nails are still painted black and he has to go to work tomorrow. “Taeyong!” He yells, and Taeyong yells ‘What!’ in reply from his desk. “How do I get rid of this?”

  Yuta walks up to him and holds up his hand to show him the nail polish. “I have to go to work tomorrow.”

  “Just go like this,” Taeyong says nonchalantly, twirling his pen. His glasses are perched on the tip of his nose and he looks funny.

  “I can’t go to work like this,” Yuta whines. “Do we have those- nail polish removers?”

  “Why would we have such a thing, Yuta?” Taeyong asks, and Yuta can’t find any fault in his question.

-

  Bickering aside- Or maybe, bickering all the way, Taeyong shrugs on a windbreaker and they go downstairs to the convenience store for nail polish remover. When they cannot find any, Yuta blames it on Taeyong saying ‘Why would there be something like that in a convenience store?’, even though he had no idea where they were supposed to be sold either.

  Suddenly Taeyong stops in his tracks and turns to him, serious. For a terrifying moment Yuta thinks Taeyong’s got annoyed by his whining and is going to give him a piece of his mind, but then, he doesn’t.

  “I was going to say that we should stop arguing like a married couple,” Taeyong says with a straight face, and Yuta’s scrunch up in disbelief. “Then I remembered that I want to marry you.”

  Yuta feigns gagging, but his blood rushes to his cheeks and ears. “But I don’t want to get married to you, you’re annoying,” Yuta says, embarrassed. Part of him is upset that he said that.

  But Taeyong is unfazed, and he ignores him expertly. “Maybe it’s good practice.” Taeyong takes one look at his warm face, and he smirks, proudly self-satisfied.

  He kisses him quickly, dipping his head to catch him off guard, and Yuta almost slaps him in alarm. “You-”

 Taeyong grins, drawing the hood of his windbreaker up and turning his back to Yuta. Yuta catches him by the hem of his shirt when he walks away. He opens his mouth to complain, but nothing makes it when Taeyong runs and leaves him there, laughing over his shoulder at him.

 The moment he recovers he chases after Taeyong, sprinting down the street until Taeyong stops and he crashes into him, laughing and panting, the September air painfully cold in his lungs.

  But life is full of simplistic happiness.

  He grabs Taeyong by his face, digging his thumbs into his cheeks and squishing hard. “You _think_ you’re going to get away with that, huh?” Yuta threatens, gritting his teeth in mock anger.

  Taeyong laughs, not in the least apologetic, and Yuta growls playfully, leaning closer. Taeyong winds his arms around him, pulling him in. “What are you going to do about it?” He counters, forehead against Yuta’s.

  Yuta presses his lips onto his, kissing him like a ravenous little lion cub, adorable in his aggressiveness. Taeyong chuckles, kissing him back gently.

  It is a little funny how they are never one at the same time, and when Yuta is this bold and unflinching, Taeyong finds himself soft-hearted for him, reduced to tender touches and gentle words. And when Yuta is blushing and cheekily shy, then he will meet him shamelessly.

  Yuta changes fluidly to and fro his two poles, and in a second he covers his face with his hands while Taeyong grins. He makes a muffled sound into his palms in embarrassment, hiding in the crook of Taeyong’s neck.

  “Ugh,” he makes a pained sound. “I can’t believe I was on the verge of public indecency.”

  He sounds so exasperated Taeyong can’t help but laugh at him, slinging an arm around his shoulder. Yuta looks up at him, incredulous, _but that spark in his eyes_ — Taeyong doesn’t know if that is from running twenty or so blocks, or maybe because of himself.

-

  They end up in the supermarket where Yuta is convinced everybody is looking at him weird when in fact nobody has the time to stop and inspect his nails. “Nobody’s noticed,” Taeyong tells him when he pushes his hands into his pockets. “Nobody’s interested in you.”

  Yuta's way of speaking has rubbed off on him. He turns to find Yuta with an eyebrow raised, and he huffs out an arrogant breath proudly.

  “I shouldn’t have let you done this,” Yuta hisses back at him, and Taeyong laughs at his embarrassment. _You have no sympathy_ , Yuta snaps in his mind when Taeyong glances at him frowning and bursts out laughing again.

  “Whatever,” he says, “Let’s get what we need and go back home.” Taeyong reaches for his hand, drawing it out of his pocket.

  Yuta slips his fingers between Taeyong’s easily, gripping his hand tight. Taeyong reads the labels on the suspicious looking liquid in their fancy bottles and Yuta wants to die on the spot. Thankfully nobody is around or-

  “Do you want a pink one or a purple one?”

  “Does that _matter?_ ” Yuta asks incredulously, and he knows Taeyong is doing this to rile him up. Nevertheless, he is succeeding. “Just get the smaller bottle, I’m never doing this again.”

  Taeyong laughs again but he does what Yuta tells him to, then leads him to the counters to pay for it. Yuta is dragged along reluctantly when he detours for a tub of ice cream.

  But when he says ‘one’, Taeyong means ‘many’. “Cookies and cream,” Taeyong says, looking at him as if he will give him a choice. For the record, one of the things Taeyong has _never_ considered Yuta’s opinion in is his choice of ice cream flavours. “Toffee.”

  “No,” Yuta says, grimacing. “That one is so sweet. I had one mouthful of it and I think I already have diabetes.”

  “This is my favourite,” Taeyong says like every time Yuta insults his toffee ice cream.

  “Can we just- leave?”

-

  The awkward thing about two grown men using nail polish remover carefully as if it were sulfuric acid never ceases to amaze Yuta.

  Taeyong is as concentrated in removing his black nail polish as he was when putting it on. “I’ve never used this,” Taeyong mumbles, and Yuta can barely hear him. “Does it sting your skin or what?”

  “No it doesn’t,” Yuta assures him, his hand stiff in Taeyong’s. “You do know that you don’t need to be so careful, right?”

  “I’m afraid to hurt you one bit,” Taeyong says.

  “I can actually do this myself.”

  “No!”

  “You’re being too much,” Yuta says, but his heart recognizes Taeyong’s good intentions.

  Taeyong doesn’t speak for a long time, and Yuta is worried that he might have taken it seriously. “I don’t mean it, Taeyong,” he starts softly, “You know that… right?”

  “H-Huh?” Taeyong snaps out of his daze. “What did you just say?”

   _Oh. He wasn't thinking that at all._ “I thought- I thought you really took what I said seriously,” Yuta says, worrying at his lip.

  Taeyong’s smile is soft when he looks at him fondly.

  “Stupid,” he says gently, “I’m just thinking about you.”

-

  “Thinking what about me?” Yuta asks, leaning forward in pretend interest. Taeyong chuckles at his expression and touches the tip of his nose.

  “Everything,” Taeyong says, and he isn’t lying. Yuta scoffs and sits back, his hand in Taeyong’s reminding him of his task.

  It is the truth, though. His train of thought had been all over the place, thinking of this and that about Yuta. For the past few minutes he had only been toying with his fingers instead of really removing his nail polish attentively, running the pad of his thumb over the curve of his perfectly rounded nails.

  It hadn’t been like that before. Yuta was one to bite on his nails, ruining his own efforts in clipping them. Every time Taeyong pulls his hand away from his mouth like he is a baby, and perhaps he’s finally starting to lose that habit. When he was younger Taeyong used to bite his nails too, and his nails were horrendous to say the least. He just doesn’t want Yuta to be like that as well. It’s such a waste to ruin such pretty hands.

  Taeyong smiles, thinking it is a bit stupid that he had thought Yuta didn’t realize he’s stopped working on his nail polish altogether. He’s a bit too obvious, isn’t he? But Yuta has him all enthralled and he can stare at any bit of him and think about his little quirks for hours on end.

-

  But Yuta really hadn’t noticed.

  He had been busy keeping himself occupied with staring at that scar at the corner of Taeyong’s eye, again, and he can still remember how he’d cried yesterday night. For a second Yuta would have pulled Taeyong into a hug and held him there, letting him bask in his scent because he knows how comforting your mate’s scent is. It is the best indication that he is here, and he is close. It means safety and warmth.

  That scar is jagged at the edges, so imperfect at the corner of his eye. It cannot be seen from afar, but up close- it is much more distinct. Perhaps he understands what it was that he had felt yesterday musing over Taeyong. It is a kind of gloomy heartache, pensive and solemn.

  Just because of a scar. Just because it is imperfect.

  Sometimes Yuta understands how that feeling of surprise and glumness is when you find something that is just a little less than perfect. And something so subtly flawed seems exceptionally unfit in such perfection. Like a tiny chip in the corner of an exquisitely carved jade, like a white discoloured milk spot on a fingernail, just like the little jagged scar at the corner of his eye.

  People are unforgiving. Something that stands out like this receives particular censure. Something a little imperfect seems at fault for making something that _could_ be entirely perfect impaired.

  Yuta imagines that is how it is with Taeyong. Because he is too perfect, and a little mistake on his part will mar him severely. But he doesn’t want to be that person who will see it this way. He wants to be forgiving, and one thing shouldn’t spoil Taeyong for him.

  It might be Taeyong who made him his own without thinking for him, but there is nothing else it should blind him from seeing. Taeyong is warm and gentle, he is the person who stays up with him all night just for him to lean on. He is light touches, afraid he would scare him away if he were too bold. He is all patient belief and he is always welcoming with his soft gaze and open arms. But most of all Taeyong loves him, and he says that he loves him, shows he loves him, and he makes Yuta unable to think otherwise.

  “What are _you_ thinking, then?” he asks, everything about him dripping with a honey-like essence that Yuta thinks is love.

  “About you,” Yuta parrots quietly, smiling.

  Taeyong pinches the bridge of Yuta’s nose lightly, chuckling.

  “Perfect.”

  “I’ve been zoning out on you,” Yuta admits.

  Taeyong laughs to himself, giving up altogether and resting his cheek on the back of Yuta’s hand. He sucks on his skin lightly, and grins when Yuta makes a face. “If it’s like this,” Taeyong starts, sighing. “If it’s like this, we’re never going to get anything done.”

  “I can sit here and look at you for ages.”

-

  There are a lot of instances when Taeyong simply doesn’t know how to react, and this is one of them. When he sees Yuta’s mother — she _has_ to be Yuta’s mother, with those eyes and lips — he stops right there, gaping. She looks at him and lets out a little chuckle, setting down the dish and wiping her hands on the apron.

  “Yuta!” She calls, laughing.

  “Yeah?” He yells back, rushing out of the kitchen. “O-Oh.” Yuta skids to a halt when he realizes it isn’t anything urgent, trying to contain his grin when he sees Taeyong frozen at the door.

  “Yeah,” Yuta says, shrugging. “My family members come and go as they please.” He turns back to his mom and says something to her — presumably making fun of Taeyong, and he doesn’t even bother to keep his volume down because Taeyong understands nothing they are saying to each other except his own name.

  Yuta’s mom laughs again, and Taeyong realizes Yuta looks so much like his mother he thinks he should kneel at her feet to thank her.

  “Huh-” Taeyong starts dumbly, closing the door behind himself, movements slow like a real-life lag. His eyes roll nervously when he struggles to find the correct words. “...Konnichiwa.”

  Yuta fails to stifle his laugh.

  “Hello Taeyong-chan,” she says, _her_ Japanese sounding perfect and compared to his own shabby, accented — Taeyong wants to hit himself for thinking that. _Of course her Japanese is perfect, she’s Japanese! For God’s sake, you dumbass!_

  Yuta’s mother, he finds out through the course of dinner, is terribly gentle and unlike how brash Yuta is — he tells him that exactly and Yuta makes a face, refusing to translate that.

  She cooks delicious Japanese dishes, and Yuta digs into them with vigour. Taeyong smiles to himself at that, his heart full.

-

  “You doing this on purpose, Yuta.”

  Yuta looks up at his mom with hands on her hips. He pouts perversely, hugging Taeyong’s arm closer. He has a head on his shoulder, and he rubs his cheek on him like a cat.

  “Poor boy is embarrassed,” she says, “You’re doing this on purpose because I am here today.”

  Yuta looks to his side at Taeyong, who is glancing to and fro Yuta and his mother while they converse in an alien language. His cheeks are red, and he looks like he wants to run away trailing white smoke.

  “No,” Yuta says, looking right into Taeyong’s eyes and enjoying the fact that he doesn’t understand what he is saying. “He loves it.”

  “Not with me here,” she says. “You’re embarrassing him.”

  Yuta grins, because Taeyong _is_ embarrassed.

  “Little troublemaker,” his mother says. “You never change.”

-

  “Yuta,” Taeyong whispers. “Ask your mom if she wants to stay here tonight — I can get the other room ready if she wants to.”

  Taeyong ends up driving her to her hotel, watching through the rearview mirror as they talk softly in the backseat, Yuta acting like the child he is. He has an arm hooked around her’s, and Taeyong huffs out an amused breath, turning back to the road.

  “Thank you, Taeyong-chan,” she says, shrugging on her coat, and _this_ he can understand.

  Taeyong stumbles over his words telling her that it’s nothing. They walk her up to the lobby, then she finally succeeds in shooing them away. She gives both of them a hug, and Taeyong keeps on thinking about it afterwards, regretting how he stiff he had been.

  “Ughhhh,” he whines, fingers in his hair.

  Yuta laughs, back in the passenger seat, where he usually is.

  “Wait,” he says, putting his hand on top of Taeyong’s. “Can we stay here for a bit?”

  Taeyong looks around at the mostly occupied car park. “I guess...for a little while.”

  “I made plans with her tomorrow,” Yuta says, turning to him. The dim yellow lights make him look soft and tired, and Taeyong reaches out to touch his cheek. He rubs his cheek into his palm, closing his eyes, a little like a cat.

  “That’s great,” Taeyong answers, the atmosphere a little too serious than it should be. “When?”

  Yuta shies away when Taeyong wants to push his bangs back. “Lunch,” he says, keeping his answer short.

  “Why are we staying here?” Taeyong asks instead.

  “Because I want to.”

  Taeyong’s fingers linger on the shell of his ear, loving. Yuta undoes his seatbelt, and the red light on the dashboard flickers. He leans forward, hands creeping onto Taeyong’s lap and bracing himself on his thighs. Yuta waits patiently, for Taeyong to stop smiling and kiss him.

  When he does, Yuta crawls forward like it isn’t enough, keeps melting into him like it is never enough. The ticking and the red light stops when he settles himself in Taeyong’s lap, the space a bit cramped but he doesn’t mind.

  Taeyong laces his fingers with arms around his waist, letting him sit sideways in his lap. “What’s gotten into you, huh?”

  Yuta shakes his head, winding his arms around Taeyong. “Mama likes you,” he says, his voice breathy. “That is good,”

  “Only ‘good’?” Taeyong asks, chuckling.

  “Great,” Yuta says, his eyes closed. “Excellent. Perfect.”

  They fall into a comfortable silence for a while before Yuta speaks up again. “I’m falling asleep,” he mutters, snuggling into Taeyong's neck.

-

  Yuta busies himself with rearranging the change in the unused ashtrays in the car on the way back. Nevertheless, his eyes are lidded heavily when they arrive home.

  “Tadaima,” Yuta mumbles to an empty apartment when Taeyong pushes open the door, ushering him inside. He makes it a point to cling onto Taeyong while Taeyong tries to get him ready for bed.

  “Come on,” Taeyong says, “We’re never going to sleep if you’re like this.”

  Yuta raises his hands unwillingly, and Taeyong slips his shirt on him. He presses a kiss onto Yuta’s temple, pushing him under the blanket.

  “Go to sleep,” he says, still finding it adorable how Yuta is so energetic all the time but needs so much sleep at night to keep himself functioning. “I’ll be here in a minute.”

  Yuta doesn’t move for a few seconds, and Taeyong thinks he must be too tired and has fallen asleep already, but then he opens his eyes tiredly. “I don’t believe you.”

  Taeyong sighs. “What’s there to not believe?”

  “You always say that, but you’re never here before I fall asleep,” Yuta says, whining perversely like a child but it is all true.

  “I know you’re busy,” Yuta says, closing his eyes again. “Sometimes you stay but you get up later to work after I sleep.”

  “Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night,” he continues. “Because _somehow_ , I know you’re not here anymore.”

  Taeyong tucks his hair behind his ear, his touch straying to the nape of his neck. “I won’t leave you tonight,” he simply promises.

  Yuta’s arm finds its way to wrap around his waist, keeping him seated at the edge of the bed. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but-” he sniffs, feeling guilty. “When I wake up in the middle of the night without you there and I can see the lights still on from the crack under the door, I really, really want to call for you because I miss your scent. But you have things to do… so- So when you aren’t busy- like today, can you hold me until I sleep and stay here?”

  Taeyong rubs his back lightly, as guilty as Yuta is. He leans down to kiss him lightly as an apology, and Yuta smiles. “It’s alright, love,“ Taeyong says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

-

_**Don't** try to reach me after **22:30** , I am not ****attending to **anything** ****._

_Thank you very much for your attention._

  Johnny snorts and deletes the email.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been some time since the last chapter  
> These few weeks haven't been that great for me  
> But I'm back with an extra long chapter  
> It's not the very best but - I didn't want to keep you guys waiting :D

  “You’re so slow-going at everything,” Taeyong comments.

  “I am. Are you complaining?” Yuta challenges him.

  Taeyong cocks his head to the side in thought. Yuta waits for his answer, but he doesn’t get it. “Yukkuri,” Taeyong says, “...Right?”

  “What?”

  “Did you forget how to speak Japanese?” Taeyong laughs. “Yukkuri,” he repeats, “Yukkuri. ‘Slow’, right?”

  Yuta covers his face in embarrassment. “Yukkuri, yes,” he says, “‘Slowly’, not ‘slow’. When did you start learning these useless phrases?”

  “I’m just trying to enrich my vocabulary bank to impress you.”

  “Impressive,” Yuta says, giving a thumbs up, still hiding his face.

  “Yukkuri shiteitte ne!” Taeyong imitates, trying to sound cute.

  Yuta groans. “No,” he says, “Don’t do that.”

  “Try it, Yuta,” Taeyong prompts, “It’s cute.”

  “No, thanks,” Yuta laughs, leaving Taeyong there. “Peace!” He walks out of the room, but there is no hiding his embarrassment.

  Taeyong doubles over with laughter. “Yukkuri, it’s cute, it suits you,” he says, calling after him. “I’m going to call you Yukkuri from now on.”

  “Please don’t.” Yuta stops at the door. “I think I’m going crazy.”

-

  Taeyong smacks the machine. Today is not a good day. First he spilt coffee all over his table, then he had to rewrite the whole set of documents the intern ruined, and now the printer isn’t working. He storms outside for the one in the common area, ignoring his employee’s concerned faces. 

_ Damn it _ , he thinks. Johnny isn’t here today, and that makes everything worse.

-

  Yuta hums, an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. He wonders if that is Taeyong. He hops off the bus, walking over to the building with hands in his pockets. 

_ Even if it’s him… _ Yuta sighs, rubbing his chest, a little upset that Taeyong is sad.  _ I’m here? For him? _

  Yuta enters an elevator, pressing the button for the twenty-first floor, pretending that he knows his way around here. He hesitates for a moment before he gets out of the lift, and he walks into the office gingerly.

  Yuta is met with curious eyes looking up from their work since he is in sweatpants and in an office. He searches the room for Taeyong, and he finds him with his back facing him using the printer. He tiptoes until he is behind him. Little does he know, all the people in the room is thinking,  _ Who is this person Taeyong is going to beat up next? _

  “Taeyong!” He whisper-shouts, trying to scare Taeyong and not to disturb the employees at the same time, but his voice sounds terribly out of place in the quiet area.

  Taeyong starts and turns around in annoyance, and Yuta raises his eyebrows and smiles at him.  _ That’s my man _ , he thinks. Taeyong looks good, clad in a simple suit. He looks smart. “Hey,” he says softly, trying to shake off the gazes burning holes into his back. 

  Taeyong starts in surprise, his stoic expression turning into something like relief, then breaking into a grin, and he looks Yuta up and down. “Why are you here?”

  He didn’t miss Taeyong’s frown just now. “Why are you so bummed?”

  “Why are you here?” Taeyong asks again, promptly ignoring his question.

  “I was around,” Yuta explains, “You’re almost done here… right? So… yeah. Let’s go home together.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs, rocking on the balls of his feet.

  Taeyong’s eyes almost disappear with his wide smile. “Okay, I’ll be done in a moment,” he says.

  “Hey, don’t rush it,” Yuta says, “Finish what you have to. I’ll just wait a bit, I have nothing to do anyways.”

  “No it’s-”

  “Taeyong. It’s okay.” Taeyong grabs the documents that the printer churns out and ushers Yuta to his room.

  The moment he closes the door behind them Taeyong relaxes. “Fuck, I needed you,” he says, and he opens his arms for a hug.

  “Bad day?” Yuta asks, leaning into him. Taeyong breathes him in, sighing heavily. Yuta makes a soft, adorable sound when he feels Taeyong pull down his shirt and nose at his collar.

  “Give me a kiss.”

  “Here? Is that okay?” Yuta asks, and even though the door is closed, it feels somewhat revealing. 

  “I might die if you don’t, Yukkuri,” Taeyong slurs.

  Yuta stumbles a little under Taeyong’s weight and his back hits the door. “Oww,” he complains, and Taeyong reaches to rub his shoulder blades.

  “Sorry,” he says, but Yuta shuts him up with lips pressed to his.

  “You can do this,” he whispers, trying to be as encouraging as possible. He tries hard to remember what Taeyong tells him when he is upset. “I’ll wait for you here. I’ll let you cuddle me when we get home. Or whatever you want to do.”

  Taeyong feels a bit embarrassed about this, and he’s never going to admit it to anyone, but the next half an hour his productivity reaches a peak while he thinks furiously of the cuddles he is going to get. Occasionally Yuta gets up from the seat across from his and walks over to see how he is doing. Though Yuta probably doesn’t know what he is doing, it feels like somebody is inspecting his work and he puts a bit more effort into it. Most of the time Yuta is doodling on a piece of blank paper, his chin rested on one arm.

  It feels so heartwarming to have somebody with him when he’s stressed, and he tells Yuta that. Yuta stretches his arm over the desk and holds his hand, looking up at him adorably. “I know,” he says, grinning. “Thanks for staying up with me that night. During finals.”

  Taeyong closes his eyes, a little overwhelmed by his soft touch and open happiness. And the fact that he remembers and appreciates his companionship. Yuta stands up and leans forward, hands braced on the desk and Taeyong meets him halfway. Yuta kisses him briefly and falls back into his seat, lips pursed.

  He looks happy. “Are you happy?” Taeyong asks him, even though it is a little stupid.

  Yuta grins and looks down at his lap, wringing his hands in it. He nods and Taeyong can’t contain his own smile. “Hey,” he says, “I love you.”

  “Pay attention to your work,” Yuta says.

-

  Yuta tells him to make the most out of his productivity today, so when they leave there is already no one outside.

  “I think I’m going to die soon, Yut,” he says, closing the door.

  “You’ll be fine,” Yuta tells him, flashing him a grin. “You’re the best.”

  Yuta pouts at him and he kisses him once, lightly. Taeyong laughs and he slings an arm around Yuta’s shoulders. He pulls him in to kiss his cheek, and suddenly Yuta coughs uncomfortably. He cups Yuta’s face with one hand. “What-” Taeyong follows Yuta’s wary and embarrassed gaze.

  “H-Hey there, Seulgi.” Seulgi is from Taeyong’s university, and she’s been here and there as a freelancer. Now that they work together, Taeyong finds only one flaw about her, which is she constantly overworks herself like he does. And here she is standing awkwardly, back from probably the pantry, working overtime and having to witness Taeyong getting all handsy with Yuta.

  Taeyong tries to keep his cool.

  “Hi,” she says timidly, speaking up when nobody does, gesturing to Yuta. “Is this…”

  “Yeah. Yuta,” Taeyong says, watching Yuta blush.

  “I’m Seulgi,” she says, and takes Yuta’s outstretched hand. They exchange greetings and Seulgi excuses herself to go back to her work, and Yuta pulls Taeyong out of the office flaming with red-hot embarrassment.

  His ears are still flushed when they reach the parking lot, and Taeyong laughs at him for it.

  Once they are in the car Taeyong grabs him for a long kiss, passionate as if he hasn’t seen him in months. “Stupid,” Yuta mumbles, “Stupid, embarrassing- ugh!”

  Taeyong laughs, nipping at his lips with his sharp teeth. Yuta shudders when he does, fingers pulling at the lapels of his jacket in surprise.

  “Sorry,” Taeyong breathes when he finally pulls away, and Yuta sits back, wondering what’s come over him. “I don’t know why — Couldn’t stop myself.”

  He watches Yuta, panting breathlessly, and grins when he looks away exasperatedly, like a child who’s gotten away with a practical joke.

-

  “Yuta came over yesterday?” Johnny asks.

  “Yeah,” Taeyong answers half-heartedly, hands at his hips beside the printer that has decided to work properly today. “How did you know?”

  “I’m going to quote them directly. ‘His face lit up like the fucking sun’, they said.” Johnny laughs at his somewhat awkward expression in between a smile and a grimace. “I know that will be because of Yuta.”

  “That’s exaggerated.”

  “From what I know, I think not.”

  Taeyong rolls his eyes, almost stomping his foot when Johnny leaves and he doesn’t get the last word.

-

  Yuta doesn’t have to have experienced it to know that it is an alpha’s rut. Taeyong might not have noticed it, but he had been easily agitated in the last few days, and his pheromones were starting to get stronger.

  Even though Yuta didn’t know what to make of seeing the changes in his alpha, he wasn’t surprised to wake up to Taeyong’s erection lined up against his butt. He doesn’t want to admit it, but it feels a whole lot different from how it is usually, and Taeyong feels much more intimidating and alpha-ish than normal. Maybe it’s the pheromones.

  He’s not sure if he would say he himself is observant, but it is all too noticeable, and the way Taeyong grazed his teeth on his mark with a low growl had sent him bolting to the computer in search of ‘What do I do when my alpha has his rut’. Yuta isn’t exactly prepared, but like he’s said — he’s not surprised. But still, that doesn’t stop nerve impulses from firing through his body erratically.

  He keeps his cool, turns over gingerly, but Taeyong is half-asleep, opening his eyes groggily. “What are you going to do about this?” Yuta asks.

  “...What…” he slurs, pushing back his hair.

  Yuta presses against him deliberately, rubbing his crotch with a thigh. He is totally unprepared for the growl that comes with it. It was a little too playful, but what’s done is already done, and Taeyong hand around his arm tightens like an iron cuff.

  When Taeyong registers his state he groans, rolling over onto his back. He has an arm thrown over his face. “Not again,” he groans.

  “You shouldn’t say anything because my heat comes once every three months.” Yuta licks his lips, not really knowing what to make of this development.  _ Is this how Taeyong feels whenever I’m in my heat? _

  Taeyong springs up in alarm when he realizes something, and he ushers Yuta away. “Shit,” he says, “Go to work quick, don’t stay here with me.”

  What are you talking about?” Yuta asks, bewildered.

  “Just  _ go _ ,” Taeyong says, pushing him away. “You don’t-“

  Yuta clings onto his arm perversely, positioning himself so he is straddling Taeyong. Taeyong sits up with a frown, his forehead starting to sweat. “You should leave before I-“

  “But I  _ want _ to help you,” Yuta says, grinding his hips down.

  “Oh my  _ god _ Yuta,” Taeyong growls exasperatedly, hands at his hips already. “Just- Can you stop?”

  “Stop what?” He asks cheekily, rolling his hips again. 

  “Yuta!” Taeyong grunts, pushing him off the bed. “Get out get out get out.” He ushers him away, but Yuta whines, his instinct telling him to insist on staying.

  “Come  _ on _ , Yuta,” Taeyong groans. “No kidding, you’re going to hate me.”

  For some unknown reason that even Yuta himself cannot fathom, he laughs — perhaps the more appropriate word would be ‘giggles’, but that just doesn’t seem too right to himself — and he cups Taeyong’s face in his hands.

  “You scared of that?” Yuta asks, shifting his position so that he is kneeling on the bed with one leg in between Taeyong’s. “Scared I’ll hate you? What for? ...Don’t want to make me stay in bed for a week?”

  “Fuck you,” Taeyong groans at his lilting tone, as exasperated as he was before.

  “Hm,” Yuta hums, pretending to be thoughtful. He dips his head so that he is level with Taeyong, and his alpha’s ears are red to the tips, flushed like he is embarrassed, and Yuta finds it oddly cute how he is still trying to hold himself back. “I think,” he drawls, imitating how Taeyong leans in like he is about to whisper a secret when he wants to steal a kiss. “Maybe you should really do that.”

  “Hm?” Yuta prompts, scrunching up his nose when Taeyong simply stares, forgetting to answer. But Yuta can tell that Taeyong cannot pay attention to his words anymore, very much like how he is when Taeyong touches him once when he is in his heat. All his senses are trained on him, and Yuta feels smug knowing Taeyong is watching his every move diligently.

  “What do you say?” He asks, tilting Taeyong’s chin up but not quite meeting his lips, and he bats his eyelashes teasingly.

  “Fuck you,” Taeyong repeats, no malice in it at all, and Yuta laughs, sensing that he cannot even conjure up a proper sentence.

  “Mhm,” Yuta says. “That’s right.” He sits down in seiza on Taeyong’s leg, leaning forward to poke fun at him. He rests his forehead on Taeyong’s, pushing him back, and Taeyong’s stare is fixed on his lips, tongue darting to lick his teeth like he is saying,  _ The moment you put your guard down, I’m going to eat you up. _

  He is so much like a ferocious lion that is rendered helpless as someone dangles his favourite piece of meat in front of him, eyes following its movements and never leaving for one second. Yuta laughs out loud, but he is a little glad that Taeyong doesn’t really tease him like this in his heat.

  “Taeyong,” he whispers, snapping him out of his trace. “Give me my phone on the table.”

  Taeyong grunts, one arm around his waist to hold him still where he is, and the other reaching awkwardly for his phone. He brings it in front of Yuta, like he is waiting for approval, and Yuta sniffs playfully, reaching for the waistband of his pants.

  “Call my office,” he says, fingers slipping in between Taeyong’s hip bone and and fabric. They stay there, cold against Taeyong’s flushed skin, and Taeyong jumps. Yuta rubs his nose against Taeyong’s, closing his eyes and it is a little weird for them to have this cute eskimo kiss right now, but none of them cares.

  Taeyong unlocks his phone obediently, scrolling angrily through his contacts when he can’t find the right one, and Yuta pities him a bit, but he slips his other hand into his pants as well. “There…” Yuta instructs. “Mm, that one.”

  The moment Taeyong calls the number he looks up at Yuta like he is wronged, like he has done everything in his power, but he still isn’t rewarded what he has been promised. “Patience is a virtue,” Yuta says while the nobody picks up the phone on the other end. “...Hubby.”

  “What’d you call me?” Taeyong whispers under his breath dangerously.

  Yuta grins, enjoying it immensely. “Ha,” he says, “Did you not catch it properly?”

  “Because if you called me what you did- I’m not letting you go anywhere.” Yuta jumps when Taeyong grabs him by the back of his thighs, pulling him close and forcing him to spread his legs wider. He tries to bite back his gasp but he can’t stop himself when he feels the bulge in Taeyong’s pants pressed against his own, rock hard and scorching like hot iron.

  “I did,” Yuta answers breathlessly, still grappling at Taeyong’s waistband. “Yeah, I think I’m not going anywhere.” Taeyong’s grip on his thighs tighten and he lets out a breathy laugh, his breath hitching in shock when the phone beeps and shows that the call cannot get through.

  “Ugh,” Taeyong frowns. “Ruining everything.”

  Yuta laughs, and he opens his mouth to speak, but Taeyong beats him to it. “You’re being really bad to me,” he says, and Yuta stifles his chuckle, thinking,  _ You’ve noticed? _ “You should pay for it.”

  Again, Taeyong’s threat is nowhere near threatening, because Yuta knows — he is annoying for saying this but — right now, he has Taeyong wrapped around his finger. “But- How?” Yuta asks deliberately, nudging Taeyong’s jaw with his nose lightly.

  Taeyong doesn’t speak, only stealing a kiss on his lips, but Yuta pulls away quickly enough to see poor Taeyong pout in disappointment.  _ My alpha — He is so cute. _

  Yuta leans in, lips barely skimming across Taeyong’s cheek. He blinks slowly, eyelashes tickling Taeyong’s temple. “Want me to blow you?” He asks quietly, deliberately suggestive, wrapping his fingers around Taeyong.

-

  Taeyong growls in annoyance and picks the phone up. It says ‘Office’ on the caller ID and he clicks his tongue. He shows Yuta the screen, and Yuta makes an incoherent sound.

  “Oh- shit.” Taeyong shudders as the vibrations of his throat run up his cock, and he decides to let Yuta answer his call. He accepts the call, then presses the phone to Yuta’s ear.

  His eyes grow wide as if saying  _ Lee Taeyong I’m going to end your life by biting down on you. _ But he pulls away, leaving a dirty string of saliva when he pops Taeyong out of his mouth with a suck on the tip like a furious kitten.

  Yuta grabs the phone from Taeyong, shooting him a disapproving glance. Taeyong grins at him. “He-Hello?” Yuta asks, surprising himself with his cracked voice. He must sound terrible.

  Yuta swallows frantically to save his throat, and Taeyong’s fingers slip into his hair. Anyone can tell that he is preparing to do something scandalous. Yuta rests an arm on Taeyong’s thigh, humming along to what his supervisor has to say.

  Taeyong rubs his cock on Yuta’s cheek and lips, drawing out a small embarrassed sound from him.

  “Uh- Yes- Because my alpha,” Yuta answers, looking up at him with a glare. “My alpha- has his- his rut.”

  “Mm, y-yes,” Yuta says, his mouth full and he slaps Taeyong’s thigh. “Thanks.”

  He cuts the call and throws the phone to one side, pulling away with glare and his tongue out. “Can’t believe you let that interrupt us,” Yuta complains, “Don’t do that when I’m talking.”

  “You’re too pretty, you know that?” Taeyong says, tilting his chin up.

  “W-What if they hear me?” Yuta asks incredulously.

  “If they do hear you, then they know that you’re mine. All mine.”

  Taeyong wraps his arms around Yuta and heaves him up, pulling him back onto the bed. “Sorry,” he says, “Can’t wait.”

  “You should have gone to work, Yuta,” Taeyong says, teeth grazing his ear, and Yuta shivers. Still, he shakes his head.

  “It’s not time for you to be apologetic,” Yuta tells him, and in a sudden bout of gratitude, he winds his arms around Taeyong’s neck and holds onto him. “Would you leave me alone at home during my heat?”

  He thinks it is all it takes for Taeyong to realize that Yuta loves him as much.

-

  But the aftermath is having to lie on his stomach for the rest of the day. Taeyong finds it a bit funny, albeit guilty. “I’m taking it back if I ever said this to you — my heat isn’t the worst thing ever,” Yuta says, eyelids drooping. “Sorry, but your rut is the worst thing.”

  “I still can’t believe you thought I should go to work this morning.”

  “Hey,” Yuta kicks Taeyong’s shin. “Give me some response.”

  Taeyong grins, and  _ he _ looks fine and refreshed. He throws an arm around his waist, kneading into his flesh and Yuta makes an embarrassing sound, somewhere between a surprised yelp and a moan. “Not there. Lower,”  he says deliberately with an attitude, “You incompetent-”

  Taeyong mocks a growl and crawls over him, kissing his temple. He massages his back, hands moving down Yuta’s bruised skin, littered with hickies, and his heart expands in satisfaction.

  “I’m going to die,” Yuta keeps on whining. “I’m going to die.”

  “Lee Taeyong.”

  “Why aren’t you talking to me?”

  “Taeyongggg.”

  “I’m going to give you blue balls if you don’t speak.”

  Taeyong still doesn’t answer him, and Yuta is about to open his mouth and complain. “Why are you still talking?” Taeyong speaks up tiredly. “Didn’t you say you’re drained?”

  Taeyong lies down on him, trapping him like a warm blanket. “You look funny,” he whispers fondly, kissing his ear. “Still running your mouth. Go to sleep.”

  “But I don’t want to stay here forever,” Yuta says, pulling Taeyong’s arm around himself. Taeyong’s torso is lined up against his back, warm and comfortable. There is something about the position and the strange closeness of bare skin that makes him actually  _ want _ to stay here forever, but Yuta won’t let him know.

  “Nobody’s telling you to,” Taeyong mumbles, nose in his hair.

  “My waist is telling me to.”

  Taeyong chuckles. “Sorry,” he says. “But let’s make it a fair deal. You get to order me around.”

-

  Yuta isn’t Yuta if he doesn't take the chance to do that. The next week is torturous for Taeyong.

  “Taeyong!” He calls from the living room.

  “What!” He yells back.

  “Get me a drink!”

  Taeyong emerges from inside to the living room. “What do you want?”

  “Beer,” Yuta says, curled up on the couch.

  “Beer isn’t good for you,” Taeyong says. “What if your stomachaches-”

  “I want it!” Yuta whines perversely, never taking his eyes off his Switch. “Then come and cuddle me!”

  Taeyong watches him, and there is no sign that Yuta is going to pay attention to him anytime soon. “...Fine,” he says, and Yuta hums in satisfaction.

  “Only one,” Taeyong says, setting the can down before him. “And we share it.”

  Yuta furrows his brows, displeased. Taeyong meets his gaze steadily, and Yuta relents finally. “Whatever,” he mutters. “Next time I’m not going to help you with your rut.”

  “You keep on using that as a threat.”

  “But is it threatening?” Yuta asks, looking up playfully.

  Taeyong pinches his cheek, baring his teeth, but Yuta smirks. “I knew it,” he says smugly. “Now sit down and cuddle me.”

-

  “My cousin is coming over later,” Taeyong says, and Yuta looks up.

  “Today?”

  “My aunt left a set of their house keys with me because they’re on vacation and my cousin forgot to bring his,” Taeyong says, laughing to himself.

  “Okay,” Yuta laughs too. “He  _ is _ your cousin.”

  Taeyong hides his face with his hands in embarrassment. “You can’t just keep on reminding me of that  _ one _ time, Yukkuri.”

  “If I didn’t bring my keys we would have locked ourselves out,” Yuta says, grinning. “And stop calling me that.”

  “Yukkuri.” Taeyong scoffs, pushing him down on the couch and tickling him. “Yukkuri. I’ll call you whatever I want.”

-

  “Yuta!” Taeyong yells from the kitchen. “Can you get the door first?”

  “Okay!” Yuta yells back, already on his way. He makes sure he doesn’t look too unpresentable —  _ this is Taeyong’s cousin, for god’s sake _ — and he unlocks the door.

  “Hi- Oh- Hello,” Yuta says when he swings it open. His toes curl in his slippers, and he suddenly doesn’t know how to speak. He stares at the man at the door, and he stares back. Yuta clears his throat.

  “Hyung!” Taeyong greets him behind Yuta, opening the door wide. “You want to come in?”

  “Uh- Sure,” Taeil says, toeing off his shoes. Taeyong laughs at his awkward speech.

  “Hyung, this is Yuta,” Taeyong says, putting an arm around him, and Yuta flinches. “Yuta, this-”

  “I know,” both of them say at the same time, and Yuta’s stomach does a flip.  _ Haha _ , he thinks,  _ This is awkward. _

  “You know each other?” Taeyong asks, bewildered. “You- Oh, shit- Wait!”

  He runs back into the kitchen hearing the gurgling sound, and something’s probably almost boiled over. But the problem is right here, and Yuta grins awkwardly at his cousin. “Hi,” he says quietly, “I didn’t know you were... Taeyong’s cousin.”

  Taeil has always been an awkward person, and Yuta has known that since his last undergraduate year. Which makes this whole thing more awkward.

  “I didn’t know you’re his,” Taeil stops. “Uh- Yeah.”

  “Do you want to go sit down first?” Yuta asks, trying to flick on his ‘socialize’ switch. “I’ll go get you something to drink, we have-”

  “Sure,” Taeil says, “Water is fine.”

  Yuta has him settled on the couch and he escapes into the kitchen, where Taeyong is wiping up the stove. “Dude!” He whisper-shouts. “Your- He’s your cousin?”

  “Yes, that’s Taeil, my cousin,” Taeyong says, watching Yuta stare with his mouth open. “Didn’t you guys just say you know each other? What about him?”

  “ _ I know. _ H-He was my TA,” Yuta says, gulping. He ducks behind Taeyong, grabbing the hem of his shirt in desperation, thinking that Taeyong will take pity on him and save him from having to face Taeil alone. Taeyong laughs, pulling him back beside him.

  “Taeil-hyung!” Taeyong calls, handling Yuta outside.

  Taeil cracks an amused smile when he sees Yuta under his arm, then composes himself. “Get to know Yuta properly, okay?” Taeyong says, ignoring Yuta’s protests. “He’s my mate.”

  “I know Yuta, Taeyong,” Taeil says, “I’m his TA. And I have heard you blabber on about how cute he is for at least a hundred times.”

  Yuta’s face flushes, and he looks away. “You’re so cute!” Taeil says, suddenly adoring, and it makes Yuta jump.

  The older omega looks at him, grinning, and Yuta almost can’t meet his gaze. It’s the first time he’s been called cute by someone in this way, maybe except by Taeyong. It is as if in Taeil’s eyes, he is a three-year-old child, wanting to be picked up.

  Taeil’s eyes are fixed on him like he is saying  _ Oh my goodness, you are so adorable- Can I bounce you on my hip? _ And Yuta is pretty scared.

  “You know, you’re free to lounge around here but just don’t make a move on him while I am in the kitchen, or else Hansol-hyung or I will never forgive you,” Taeyong throws over his shoulder before retreating inside.

  Taeil simply ignores him and turns to Yuta. “So, Yuta,” he asks deliberately. “What is good about Taeyong at all?”

  Yuta finds himself laughing, even though he is still embarrassed. “I’m not too sure,” he says, playing along.

  Taeyong makes a protesting sound in the kitchen. “I can hear you guys, I’m not deaf!”

  Taeil drinks from the glass, and Yuta savours that few seconds of quietness when he doesn’t need to converse. “You- kind of look like my mate,” Taeil says.

  “H-Huh- Really?”

  “Big round eyes,” Taeil describes, “You have similar complexions- But you are much cuter than he is.” He cracks a small smile, and Yuta does too.

  Awkward.

  “I think I should get going,” Taeil says, after they attempt to engage in a conversation for a while. “I’ll see you some other time.” Taeil doesn’t look too bothered by Yuta’s embarrassment, so Yuta thinks he might be the only one who feels uneasy. Taeil might even think he is cute for being like that.

  It is so strange to be held in this regard, as if he is a child and Taeil is someone older by a lot. It’s not  _ unpleasant _ , just weird. Taeil ruffles his hair, and Yuta blushes madly. “Tell Taeyong that I’m leaving now, will you?”

  Yuta drags Taeyong out of the kitchen so that he can hide behind him while bidding Taeil goodbye, and the moment the door closes behind him, he lets out a deep breath. “Thank fuck,” Yuta says, closing his eyes, and Taeyong laughs at him.

  “What?”

  “He just- treated me like- like I’m his child,” Yuta says, hiding his face with his hands. “It’s so weird!”

  “Taeil is like that,” Taeyong laughs. “He’s a bit awkward. Dotes on everyone.”

  Yuta groans, winding his arms around Taeyong’s waist and leaning into him. “Being called cute is so weird,” he whines. “He keeps on calling me cute like I am a three-year-old.”

  “You  _ are _ cute,” Taeyong says, kissing him on his forehead and chuckling at his distress. He hands him their utensil and pats him on his butt. “Get ready for dinner.”

-

  “Mr Lee,” Yuta says, looking up. “Are you playing _footsie_ with me?”

  Taeyong chuckles. Yuta has recently picked up this habit of calling him Mr Lee, and Taeyong finds the mock formality incredibly cute, even though he doesn’t know why. 

  “How did you know the word for it?” Taeyong asks, acting surprised to steer the conversation away.

  “Taeyong,” Yuta says, pretending to be exasperated and shaking his head. “You should know better than to do that.” His foot rubs against Taeyong’s calf, and Taeyong laughs, hooking it forward.

  “ _ Taeyong _ ,” Yuta complains while he escapes, pushing his bowl and utensils over to Taeyong’s side.

  Taeyong scrunches up his face, confused. But Yuta makes his stance clear as he pulls out the chair next to him and settles down. He sits sideways and swings his legs over Taeyong’s lap, slipping one in between his.

  “Why are you so touchy?” Yuta complains, his words thick with the irony. Taeyong laughs, pulling his chair closer.

  He knows if someone sees them like this… they’re disgusting. He leans in to kiss Yuta’s cheek, but Yuta stops him, grabbing him by his chin. Yuta furrows his brows and pouts. “Ew,” Yuta says, drawing out the syllable playfully a second before their lips meet.

  “Ew,” Taeyong mumbles as an answer, chuckling lightly.

  Yuta crowds into Taeyong’s lap, snatching his chopsticks and placing it on his bowl. He straddles him, cupping his face and donned with a brilliant grin. “Look at me,” Yuta says.

  Taeyong chuckles in amusement. “I _am_ looking at you.”

  “ _ Look at me. _ ”

  “What do you want, Yukkuri?” Taeyong asks, hands finding their places on his hips.

  “I want you to only look at me.”

  “But I want to eat,” Taeyong says deliberately, pretending to be upset. “I cooked for you and you won’t even eat dinner? You’re not letting  _ me _ eat either?”

  Yuta fails to stifle his laughter. “Am I not the best meal?” He asks shamelessly, flipping his bangs out of his eyes and tilting his chin up cockily. “Say, don’t I taste the best?”

  “You’re amazing, honeybee,” Taeyong says, trying to suppress his grin, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “I know, Mr Lee,” Yuta says, his eyes twinkling. “Taeyong tells me that a lot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Yukkuri shiteitte ne' is 'Do it slowly' or 'Take it slow' in Japanese


End file.
